Mad About You
by Serpentine Iris
Summary: [Hiatus] After fifth year, Harry returns to Grimmauld Place malnourished and plagued by nightmares. There he finds Draco Malfoy, who's changed over the summer.
1. Take Me Away

**Warning:** Will eventually contain Slash - Meaning male/male pairing. Yes, as in Draco/Harry. Don't read it if you don't like it.  
**Disclaimer:** Nooo, I don't own the characters of Harry Potter. This story's based on events and in settings created by J.K. Rowling  
**Summary:** After the events of Year 5, Harry returns to Grimmauld Place malnourished and plagued by nightmares. There he finds Draco Malfoy, who's changed over the summer. With an unlikely friendship and budding interest with the boy, Harry faces another year at Hogwarts.

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**Mad About You  
Chapter One - Take Me Away  
**Privet Drive

_The jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_"Come out, come out, little Harry!" she called in a baby voice. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"_

_"Aaaaaah... did you _love _him, little baby Potter?" The hatred he felt for the woman a few feet from him raged in his chest, surrounding the gaping hole where He had been in his heart._

_...Time slowed as Sirius fell..._

_"_Crucio!_"_ _- Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest... he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony._

_Ginny slid down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle... Ginny, who was breathing in a very shallow way, her eyes still closed._

_His mother keened forward releasing a scream as the alien green spell hit her._

_The Death Eater's foot broke Neville's wand in two and connected with his face - Neville gave a howl of pain and recoiled, clutching his mouth and nose._

_...His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch..._

_Dolohov's Slashing Spell passed right across Hermione's chest... she crumpled onto the floor and lay motionless._

_The tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron's arms like ropes. "Harry, look what's happen - no - no, I don't like it - no, stop - stop -" Ron fell over, still thrashing against his bonds._

Cedric Diggory's body slumped to the ground, a permanent look of confused surprise on his face.

_"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" A second before a jet of red light hit Ginny squarely in the face. She keeled over sideways and lay there unconscious._

_The look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil... Sirius Black did not reappear._

"SIRIUS!" Harry Potter jerked awake in bed sweating, safe at number four Privet Drive. The sweat made his shirt stick to his back and his heart was clenched in an ice-cold grip as the lead feeling in his stomach grew. Sirius was gone. Had been gone, in fact, for almost a month. Harry reached a shaking hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes as his face screwed up at the thought. He wasn't surprised to find them wet with tears. He always woke up from these nightmares crying; He'd had flashes from the battle at the Department of Mysteries haunting him almost nightly. Sometimes, like tonight, they were accompanied by images from the graveyard when Voldemort returned, and when his parents died.

Harry sat up in bed and drew his knees up to his chest. From his small window, he could see from the color of the horizon that it was a little before sunrise, somewhere close to half past four, maybe. He'd have to get up in a few hours to make breakfast for the Dursleys. The Dursleys. Their enmity towards him only grew in the three weeks he'd been there, helped along by their fear of his friends they met at the train station. Harry loved it. Every mention of having to write them made his Uncle Vernon turn twitchy and red. His Aunt Petunia would bare her horse teeth while her eyes grew wide and Dudley, their whale of a son, would gape and shrink down in his chair.

Harry reached over and picked his glasses up off the nightstand, pushing them onto his nose and bringing his room into focus. It was in bad shape, really, even though he had never really kept it squeaky clean. The paint on the walls was peeling in a few areas, the bed was small and the mattress was more than flat. His owl's cage sat in a corner, filthy and neglected. Hedwig was delivering a letter to Ron, so it was empty. Clothes were strewn about, as were his school things. Normally, the Dursleys wouldn't have allowed it, but he'd threatened to owl the Order, so they relented grudgingly. His prized possession, his Firebolt, was next to Hedwig's cage. He had no posters or pictures on the walls. The only other thing that suggested the room was his were the two pictures on his nightstand, both pictures' inhabitants were moving, waving and smiling at him. The first one of his parents with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin at their wedding (he'd switched it from the one of just his parents) and the second of Hermione, Ron and himself in the Gryffindor common room, sitting in their usual spots by the fire. The fire, which, just last year, Sirius appeared to speak with him.

Harry's eyes stayed on the picture with Sirius. _'It's my fault...'_

His eyes squeezed shut as another tear trekked its way down his cheek. Let the Dursleys make their own breakfast - there was no way he was moving today.

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"BOY! Where were you!?" Uncle Vernon yelled through his door. He banged his meaty fist on the wood once, at which time Harry heard a muffled yelp. He figured it was from Vernon hitting one of the numerous locks and bolts on the other side of his door.

Harry looked up from the floor and said calmly to the still closed door, "I was right here. Is there a problem?" He wasn't about to put up with being baited or pushed around by his relatives anymore.

"You were supposed to make breakfast this morning, idiot boy. When I come back, you better be downstairs doing chores."

Harry listened as his uncle trumped down the hallway, sounding like an elephant. He sat in silence for a few more precious minutes before the door opened. His fat cousin Dudley stood in the doorway, with a smug smile on his face.

"What do you want, Dudley?" Harry sighed and refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Poor little Harry, what's the matter? Did your 'friends' leave you here to rot?" Dudley took a step into the small room as he said this.

Harry gritted his teeth. It was just like Dudley to come and torment him without thinking.

"Go away Dudley."

"Where's that freak with the eye? Or the girl and her stupid hair? Where's that raggedy bum that was with them? Or your stupid, murderous convict of a godfather?" Dudley sneered. "You're all alone."

Harry grew cold at the mention of Sirius. His hand clenched into a fist and his eyes narrowed as he looked up at his cousin. "Shut.Up."

"Oh, did I hit a nerve? Did your godfather forget you? No, maybe he just didn't _want_ you, since everyone you know dies." Dudley didn't know about Sirius, nor how close his words hit to home, but as soon as the words slid out of his mouth, he knew he had said the wrong thing. One minute he's sneering at Harry looking into his blazing green eyes, the next, the dark-haired boy's fists were raining down across his face and stomach in a fury.

Harry couldn't think. All he knew was that Dudley deserved horrible pain. The scorching anger inside stopped him from feeling or being aware that Dudley was now fighting back. His fat fist had come into contact with his chest and face, bruising or cutting them in more than one place. Dudley's nose was bleeding, one eye was squinting through already purple skin, and he had several areas that would be bruised later on. A feral grin crossed Harry's face before the pounding on the floor announced the arrival of Vernon and Petunia to the scene in the hallway.

"WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY!?" Vernon ripped Harry off of his son and held him down by the scruff of his neck. Petunia whimpered and crouched over her precious son and helped him up.

"Oh, my poor Dudders..what did that foul little wretch do to you??" She whimpered and fussed over her son, helping him into the bathroom to clean him up. Harry ignored his insufferable aunt. Uncle Vernon chose that moment to thwap his hand on the back of Harry's head and push him against the railing of the landing, further hitting the side of his head on the corner of the banister. The anger and pain he felt at Dudley's words were still pounding adrenaline through his system.

"What did you do, boy."

"Dudley provoked me, so I was punching him. Problem?" Harry glared at his uncle. "Let me go."

"Oh. Oh. Dudley provoked you, did he? You should know better than to lie to me boy. We've allowed you to stay here, and given you food-"

"Right. Scrapes of food, enough to not starve to death. Beating me, and locking me in my room, and calling me a freak all the time. Well, thank you for your _grand_ hospitality. Now let go of me!" An electrical surge coursed through his body and Uncle Vernon let go of him so fast it was as if he was on fire.

"What did you.. You're not supposed to use your funny business here! That's it! It's the final straw! If you don't like it in your room, well you can go back where you belong!" Vernon shoved Harry towards the stairs and followed him down, holding him now by his shirt. He didn't listen to any of Harry's protests, and when he reached the floor he turned and unlocked the familiar little cupboard Harry had spent eleven years in. He roughly shoved Harry inside and slammed the door after him, firmly locking it and looking through the grate.

"You can spend the week in here. Fuss, and it will be longer." He said nastily before heading back up the stairs to check on Dudley before leaving for work.

Harry sat down on the little worn cot that used to be his bed and listened to the Dursleys hustle about. As his adrenaline wore off, he knew he deserved it partially, for assaulting Dudley. But he also knew Dudley got what he deserved, too. Harry looked around the little prison, using the only light he had from the grate on the door and the crack underneath. Needless to say, he couldn't see much, but he could tell that the cupboard was smaller than he remembered it, almost suffocating. _'"Harry, it'll suffocate him!"'_

A sharp stinging on the side of his head kept him from dwelling on the memories. Harry pressed his hand to the side of his head and winced when it stung even more. His fingers came away with wet warmth. He held his hand up to the grate and saw a few red smears of blood. 'Great. Wandless, soon to feel pain, stuck in this stupid cupboard, and bleeding from a head wound. I can see the headlines now: _'Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, Bleeds to Death Inside Cupboard Under Stairs of a Muggle Home. Wizarding World is Doomed.''_

Harry snorted and curled up on the cot, angling his head so the wound was facing up. Hopefully the blood would clot soon. For the time being, Harry drifted off to sleep listening to Petunia rummage around the house.

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Malfoy Mansion, Wiltshire

The Malfoy Mansion was actually a small old castle used back in the 1700's. It was recently refurbished and renewed to its old splendor, with dark grey stone and cream-colored paint. Fancy little turrets rose systematically from the roof accented the huge, black main doors bearing the Malfoy Crest. The drive was lined with small hedges of dark plants that also lined the outer perimeter of the entire estate. The sprawling gardens were in the back, housing everything from Muggle flowers - some of Narcissa's favorite - to magically moving ones, along with fountains and statues. It did not really matter if something did not grow in any present weather condition; the gardens had spells placed on them so they grew year-round.

For once, Draco Malfoy didn't mind the Muggle flowers as he sat looking at them, thinking about everything that had happened. He did not have to show visual disgust at their simplicity, as he was now allowed to appreciate their life and beauty. He liked the narcissas his mother enjoyed, and the shapes of the bleeding hearts fascinated him. It was shocking really, how much he found a liking of Muggle things once he was free to do so.

Yes, he was free. His father was in Azkaban for life. While he did not enjoy that fact, and the Malfoy name was sludge with the Ministry these days, Draco found that he liked the little newfound freedoms he and his mother had. He was free to spend time with his mother, instead of having to learn the Dark Arts and be with his father. If he said or did something wrong, his mother didn't raise a hand to him. She did not use curses on him to 'teach' him. She welcomed him the way he was. He had forgotten how much he loved being with his mother, since he had spent every waking moment in the shadow of his father for the last ten years. He had been molded by his father - no, not his father, Lucius - he had been molded by Lucius to follow his path as a Death Eater, to accept the Dark Mark and serve You-Know-Who. But he didn't want to serve You-Know-Who. He didn't want to bow down to some white, scaly violet-eyed freak bent on half the wizarding world's destruction. Granted, he had been prejudiced towards them, but it was more to please Lucius than anything else.

He had been most prejudiced towards one certain muggle-born thus far: Hermione Granger. Draco hated himself for it now. It had really been because of Harry Potter that Draco was so hateful towards Granger and Weasley. They were his friends, his best friends in fact. A position Draco thought he should have had from day one in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Draco had been sincerely hurt when Harry refused his offer of friendship, and he had hidden it well under the insults. He supposed he deserved it, as spouting off about Lucius and purebloods was definitely not the way to get on Harry's good side. But now he was in a rut - he was Harry's supposed enemy. It sat well with his housemates in Slytherin that he was against Harry, since they all were. He enjoyed being so well liked by them - some called him the Slytherin Prince - but he wondered now if that's what he really wanted. He knew logically he enjoyed his place in Slytherin, but it would be so much better if he could be Harry's friend and still be accepted by his peers.

Draco sighed and slouched down on the stone bench next to the narcissas, putting his head into his hands with his elbows on his knees. Who was he kidding? He'd do anything now to be Harry's friend, reputation and acts be damned. He'd settle for a friendship, in the least. What he really wanted, he knew Harry would never ever want. Only two other people knew of his crush on Harry Potter: his own friends, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. God, who wouldn't have a crush on the stupid Scarhead? He was everything anyone could want. He had so much talent it was coming out of his ears. He played Quidditch with extreme grace and skill. He was one of the best in his classes, minus Potions (Draco had a sneaky suspicion it had something to do with Snape), and he was attractive to boot.

Draco groaned. He'd gone off on another Harry rant. 'Who's the stupid one now? You ninny.'

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Narcissa Malfoy floated down the grand staircase, looking down regally at her visitor. The man was in plain black robes with a green insignia on the front left. His pockmarked face and beady eyes were stuck on the butler, disdain clear. Narcissa herself was wearing pale green dress made of velvet. She dismissed the butler and fixed a stony gaze on the man.

"And why, may I ask, have you come calling, Mr...?" Narcissa trailed off. She didn't like having so many visitors unless they were female friends of hers; it meant they were friends and callers of Lucius.

"Smythwyckt, madam."

"Yes, Mr. Smythwyckt. Forgive me for not offering you tea, but why are you here?" She stayed on the bottom stairs, her hand on the banister.

"I am a colleague of Lucius's. I should get right to the point. It was arranged that, if Lucius was... inconvenienced, in any way, that his son, Draco Malfoy, would come stay with me until the time where he was able and fit to see the Dark Lord personally. I trust-"

"No."

"No? Excuse me, but what do you mean?"

"I mean, Mr. Smythwyckt," Narcissa said calmly, "that he will not be leaving the manor to go with you, nor will he be seeing the Dark Lord. I forbid him to receive the Dark Mark. My husband is already in Azkaban, and I will not see my son placed there also. Good day, the door out is behind you." She stood and waited for him to leave.

A look of outrage crossed his face without being replaced with a stony mask. "Madam Malfoy, you see... we will get your son one way or the other. You may forbid it, but he will join us. He was promised to us. And, as you've refused it, Lucius also wished me to give you a parting gift." Before the words had left his mouth, he raised his wand and drawn a symbol in the air in harsh slashes. The curse, glowing a soft blue, hit Narcissa Malfoy in the chest. Her face rendered little surprise as she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Smythwyckt turned around and let himself out the door. He calmly got into his car and ordered the driver to leave.

A yell followed them down the drive.

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Draco stood swiftly and froze at the sound of yelling. It was the butler. He turned and hurried back up to the manor, entering through the nearest doors. Something was wrong, otherwise the family butler never would have yelled. His stomach clenched in dread.

He stopped at a dead halt when he saw the horrifying scene before him in the foyer. His mother lay crumpled on the floor, her blond hair puddled around her head, almost as if it were silky blood. Her eyes were open and unseeing, staring up at the ceiling. Though she did not appear physically harmed, it was just as horrifying.

The butler - Draco had never bothered learning his name before - stood opposite of him, staring down at his mother. He seemed just as shocked.

In true Malfoy fashion, Draco composed himself within a matter of seconds, long enough to give an order to the butler: "Send for Severus Snape." He closed his eyes to block out the image. Severus would know what to do. The greasy, black-haired man was an old friend of the family's and Draco's head of House.

Draco kneeled down next to his mother. The mother he'd just gotten back, and finally admitted to himself that he liked. A lone tear slid down his pale cheek. Draco waited with his mother's body for Severus to arrive.

It didn't take long: Severus apparated outside the Malfoy mansion within five minutes of receiving the owl. He opened the black door and paused momentarily as he took in the sight before him. His eyes flickered with emotion, but it was gone before it was noticed.

"Draco, go pack your things. I'll take care of this," Snape told the boy, kneeling next to him. When he didn't receive a response, he shook the boy's shoulder slightly.

Draco stood mechanically and moved upstairs to his room.

Snape looked down at Narcissa Malfoy, wondering what on earth had happened. He wasn't a fool; this was done by a Death Eater, but who? And why?

Snape touched Narcissa's pale hand, noting it was slightly warm. He frowned to himself as he looked at her face. Surely she would have been more surprised if someone had shot the Killing Curse at her? It was then that he took the time to notice the small movement of her chest. She was breathing in small shallow movements. So she wasn't dead.

Snape picked up Narcissa's body, not wanting it to be at the stairs when Draco came back down. He moved into the main room where the Malfoy fireplace stood. Casting in some floo powder, he called for Dumbledore. The aged wizard popped his head in to see Snape and Narcissa.

"Ah. She's still alive I presume, Severus?" The grave look in his eye was different from the twinkle that usually appeared there.

"Yes, but barely. She needs to go to St. Mungo's. Draco's getting his things. I can't take him to my house though, they'll look for him there."

"Yes, I thought as much." Dumbledore stepped through into the fireplace, his whole body appearing. He handed Snape a piece of parchment, "Give this to him. He'll have to stay there for the summer, I'm afraid, for his safety. I shall go ahead and take Narcissa to St. Mungo's. Tell Draco she's alive, he should not have to think his mother dead." With that, Dumbledore took Narcissa from Snape and went back into the fire.

Snape moved back to the staircase and found Draco standing with his trunk. Levitating it, he brought Draco in to the fireplace. He handed Draco the parchment from Dumbledore.

"Draco, read this. I'll explain things once we get there." Snape pushed him into the fireplace with his trunk, standing next to him. Draco glanced down at the paper, before looking at Snape confused.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place!"

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Privet Drive, Little Whinging

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks stood in front of number four Privet Drive. On the outside, Lupin appeared calm and pleasant, dressed in simple slacks, a white shirt and a grey over shirt. Inside though, he was near furious at the muggles within the house. Dumbledore had told him it was time to pick up Harry, giving few details. All he would say was that Vernon was out of line, and it had been almost a week since Harry's last response.

Lupin rang the little doorbell once again. No one was answering, as planned. The Dursleys had gone out to a dinner party to celebrate Vernon's small raise, leaving tonight as the perfect time to pick up Harry. Glancing around, Lupin cast alahomora on the lock and let them into the house.

Tonks looked around, making sure no one was in the living room, before moving up the stairs to where she knew Harry's room was. She pulled a face at the numerous locks down the side of the door. Tonks opened the door and peeked in.

"Wotcher, Harry! ..Harry? Oi, Remus, he's not here." She called down the stairs to Lupin.

"Gather up his things, Tonks. Dumbledore told me where he was." Lupin had stood still, eyeing the small door under the stairs, from the moment they got in the house. He walked over to the door and unlocked it. It creaked open slowly to reveal Harry laying on a cot, asleep. Furious was not a word that came close to what Lupin was feeling now. Harry looked sick and neglected. He was dressed only in boxers and a shirt and in need of a shower. His skin was pale, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he had beaten: bruises and small cuts marred the visible skin of Harry's face and arms. Harry was also much too skinny; Lupin could see his ribs under his shirt and his collarbone cast unhealthy shadows. Lupin winced, shaking Harry awake.

Harry's eyes opened and he looked dazedly at Lupin before completely piecing together reality. It had been awhile since the door had been opened. He flung himself out of the cupboard and hugged Lupin hard.

"Come on, Harry, we're getting you out of here." Lupin led Harry upstairs where Tonks was already done packing.

She smiled as she turned around to face him, "Wotcher Har.. Merlin, Harry, what's happened to you? You look half dead! Here, put these on." She handed him a pair of his jeans and his shoes, staring almost nauseously at the blood that had caked in his hair from the blow to the head. Lupin just stood next to Harry, silent.

"Molly's gonna be in a right state when she sees you."

Harry pulled his jeans and shoes on deftly, "We're going to the Burrow?" His voice sounded coarse from not being used for a week. Harry was glad he didn't have to look at himself, if just hearing his voice made him cringe.

Lupin spoke up, "No, Harry. We're going to the Order's headquarters." Grimmauld Place. Sirius's home.

Harry balked. "Why? W-we don't have to go there for anything, do we?" his voice was edged with panic at the thought of being in the place where Sirius had been.

Lupin looked at him almost regretfully, "Everyone is at the headquarters, Harry. It's safer than the Burrow." The statement caused Harry to grow quiet.

"Here, Harry." Tonks put a small rubber duck into his hand. "It'll take you there. We're gonna take your trunk and things."

Harry didn't have time to reply. The portkey activated and Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, propelling him towards the one place he had dreaded seeing the most this summer.

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**A/N:** Hurray, first chapter. I'm pleased it ended up being scroll-worthy. And to think, it only took me about three days to type. It's my first attempt at HP fiction. Don't butcher me =X

A few side notes.. The title, Mad About You, is obviously from the show MAY. The chapter title, Take Me Away, is a snippet from The Labyrinth. Harry's dream flashes are from HP and the Order of the Phoenix.

I finally got Word working again, so I have my spellcheck back. Woohoo! So I've had to go over this chapter a few times.

**Next chapter:** How will Harry and Draco react to Grimmauld Place and eachother? How will Hermione - and more importantly, Ron - react to Draco? And what's the Order been up to exactly?


	2. Dinner and Conversations

Recap: "Draco, read this. I'll explain things once we get there." Snape pushed him into the fireplace with his trunk, standing next to him. Draco glanced down at the paper, before looking at Snape confused.

.::.

Harry didn't have time to reply. The portkey activated and Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, propelling him towards the one place he had dreaded seeing the most this summer.

Note: Draco was taken to GP in the afternoon, Harry at night.

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**Mad About You  
****Chapter Two – Dinner and Conversations  
**Grimmauld Place, afternoon

The spinning stopped suddenly. Draco was still next to Snape with his trunk, coughing as old ash rose into the air at their arrival. _'Where the hell did he take me?'_

Snape stepped out of the fire and took the trunk with him. Draco followed after, glancing briefly around the room. It was dark, and slightly dusty from not being used in a long time. A dark leather couch and sitting area set were grouped around the fire, accompanied by large, dust-covered silver lamps. At the first look, it reminded him of the Slytherin commons room. Odd.

Snape motioned for him to be quiet as Draco moved after Snape, leaving the room to go into the entrance hall and up the stairs. Draco caught sight of house-elf heads hanging along the wall of the entrance hall, joined by the serpent-shaped candelabra. _'Most definitely a dark wizard house.'_

Snape took him up to a bedroom on the second floor. The room was furnished in black and maroon, with a four-post twin bed in the center of one wall. A dark mahogany armoire stood against the opposite wall, in the corner.

Snape turned around and faced Draco with a sullen face replacing the usual sneer. "I regret having to bring you here, Draco, but it was for your safety."

"Where –"

"Wait, let me finish explaining. The paper in your hand is from Professor Dumbledore. You are in the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. The professor has requested that you stay for the duration of the summer, and I trust he will speak with you once term starts to determine further. He also wished me to tell you your mother is not dead." Snape said calmly while looking at the teen.

Draco looked at Snape sharply, "What do you mean? She's alive?"

"Yes. She was not hit with the Killing Curse. She's in St. Mungo's. She'll probably be there for awhile, considering the types of curses the Death Eaters know." Snape's lip curled.

"Right… Sev, aren't you a Death Eater? What's with the Order of the Phoenix?" Draco's relief at hearing his mother wasn't dead showed on his face, along with curiosity.

Snape studied Draco for a moment before responding, dismissing the old nickname Draco often used. "I trust you have been rethinking your future as well as your beliefs since your father has gone, Draco? Am I right in saying you no longer wish to follow the path of your father?" He waited until Draco reluctantly nodded before continuing, "Yes. I am a Death Eater, but I am a spy for the Light. I can't reveal much about the Order of the Phoenix, besides telling you that they are working against the Dark Lord. I feel I must tell you that, " his lip curled in disgust even more, "The Golden Trio of Hogwarts spend time here, though I don't know if their great leader will want to return here anytime soon. I doubt you will wish to associate much with them, but they are the only children here, besides the other Weasleys." Draco's heart sped up at the mention of Harry Potter, and he wondered if he'd see him anytime soon, regardless of the mention of Weasleys poking about.

"Sev, do you think Ha-Potter would agree to… to a truce?" Draco refused to meet Snape's eyes. He had to remember to call him Potter.

This wasn't exactly what Snape had wanted to hear, in the least. He looked at his favored student with a baffled expression.

"… Potter might, eventually. I don't know about Granger or Weasley though. Though why you would want to bother eludes me, Draco." Snape answered carefully, studying Draco's face all the while.

"Professor Dumbledore would probably quite agree with you," Snape handed Draco a vial full of potion, before heading to the door. "Sometimes I wonder if what the _Daily Prophet_ was saying about Dumbledore was right. Take that potion. It should allow you to sleep well enough until that Weasley woman makes dinner. I'll have to tell her you're staying." Snape nodded curtly before closing the door and heading downstairs.

Draco pushed his trunk to the foot of the bed before moving and sitting on the side. His mother was alive. Snape worked against You-Know-Who. He was staying in the same house as the Weasleys. Harry Potter might be staying there too.

Draco wondered why Snape had said Potter might not want to return here. He shrugged uncharacteristically, figuring he'd find out soon enough. He tipped up the potion and swallowed its contents, lying down comfortably on the bed. _'Cheers, Potter.'_

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Grimmauld Place, evening

Harry appeared just inside the entrance hall of number twelve Grimmauld Place. He stared at the floor, refusing to look around at the dreary place. Lupin and Tonks apparated with twin pops next to him, holding his trunk in between them. They were both looking at him with worry etched on their faced.

"Harry, why don't you head downstairs first? Molly made dinner an hour or so ago, she had enough to save for –" Lupin was cut off as Tonks tripped, as usual, over the troll foot holding umbrellas.

"Damn, stupid thing -" And Tonks was cut off from swearing with a loud screech from the wall.

"FILTH! TAINTED BLOOD, FOUL CREATURES –" Mrs. Black screeched from her portrait at the top of her lungs.

"OH, PUT A SOCK IN IT!" Molly Weasley came up from the basement door, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. Though short, plump, and looking a bit haggard, she was a sight for sore eyes for Harry. She marched over and forced the curtains around the portrait – which had flown open at some point, Harry realized – shut, before turning around to the new arrivals.

"Harry dear! What in all of the wizarding world happened to you?!" Molly paled at his sickly state. Harry wondered idly when they would stop doing that. She quickly enveloped him in a warm, motherly hug.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really," he stood unmoving in her arms, feeling more than a little out of place at the show of affection. He was beginning to become a little self-conscious with everyone staring at him in jeans and a stained t-shirt. She didn't look like she believed him much, but she didn't voice it.

"Alright, well, there's a plate of dinner in the kitchen for you. I suspect Ron and Hermione will come down soon enough to see if you're here. We'll be in in a minute, dear." Mrs. Weasley cast a look towards Tonks and Lupin.

"Yeah, alright." Harry made his way down to the kitchen from the door Mrs. Weasley came out of, leaving the three free to talk about him. His anger, which was so close to the surface since last year, began to rise from being in the house again. He stomped down the stairs and found a flat bowl of potatoes and stew warming on the stove next to some bread rolls. His stomach growled as the smell wafted up from the plate. _'Thank Merlin.'_

Harry took the plate and sat down, spooning the stew into his mouth hurriedly. He'd been hungry for a week, stuck in the cupboard.

He heard someone coming down the stairs and looked over to the door as Ron Weasley trumped down the last few steps. He had grown a few more inches – _'How much more is he going to grow?' _ Harry wondered – and his hair looked messy, as if he had just woken up. Hermione Granger flew down the stairs behind him, her bushy brown hair looking much like Ron's. She had also grown a bit in his absence, becoming more of the young woman she would be.

The looks on their faces when they saw Harry were similar to Tonks's, Lupin's, and Mrs. Weasley's. Logically, he knew he looked worse than he had previous years, but it still grated his nerves.

"Harry!" Hermione took the initiative by shoving Ron to the table. She sat down next to him sharply and Ron was on his own standing, looking at Harry, his best mate, as if he had just told him he was joining Lord Voldemort. Harry snorted to himself, _'As if.'_

"H-Harry, what happened to you, mate? You… look like shit." Ron stammered. Hermione looked slightly annoyed with Ron's bluntness, but she did not disagree.

"Oh, Harry, what did you do?" Hermione said around her hand, which was clapped over her mouth in horror. Her eyes had a sadness that caused him to buckle.

"What do you mean 'what did _I_ do'? Is that what you think? That I starved myself with grief and started inflicting pain on myself?" He gestured angrily to his still present bruises and almost-healed cuts. "The muggles did this! Really, you two out of everyone should know I wouldn't do this!" His voice was rising with his anger. He didn't want to mention the starving part, because deep down he knew he had been, in a way. He had refused to leave his bedroom several times, even for food, and the Dursleys didn't care enough to bring any up.

"W-we know you wouldn't, Harry, I didn't me-mean it like that." She glanced quickly at Ron, unshed tears making her eyes glitter. "We've been so worried about you. All Dumbledore would say to us is that you'd be picked up sometime in August, or is he couldn't help it anymore. And y-you're a week early. Something must have happened, and judging by your state, something did." She glanced at Ron again, who was still standing dumbstruck.

Harry spooned more stew into his mouth, thinking if he should tell them. A silent war waged inside him as he chewed. They'd kept secrets from him all summer, and now they stood in front of him, making weird glances at each other, almost scared to death that he might crack – or of him. Harry paused. _'Are they really scared of me?'_ He looked between the two and realized they, like the others, were just concerned for his well being which was in danger. _'Though they don't know half of it, since I haven't said anything about that damn prophecy,'_ he thought bitterly.

Swallowing slowly before answering, he cast around for the words.

"Words were said, and I got in a muggle fight with Dudley. Vernon found us, shook me around a bit, and I got to spend the week locked in the cupboard." He kept his eyes on the almost empty plate of strew. He didn't want to see Hermione's disapproving-yet-understanding look.

Ron spoke up for the first time in a shaky voice, "Fat prig probably deserved it, right mate?" Harry looked up and grinned at his best friend.

"Deserved it more than even Malfoy would have." Harry provided. _'Huh. Malfoy. Wonder how he's doing without Lucius.'_ Harry stopped. He did _not_ just wonder how Malfoy was.

Ron laughed, "Ferret-boy… are you sure about that? God, I would love to see the look on his face again…"

Ron babbled on as Harry's thoughts drifted back to Malfoy while he listened half-heartedly to Ron and ate. The Slytherin didn't anger him anymore. Since the ride home from Hogwarts, when almost all of the D.A. members attacked him, Harry was actually sorry for him. He knew Malfoy would be angry if he found out Harry, the Boy-Who-bloody-Lived, felt pity towards him.

The feeling had moved on though, to an almost tired resignation. He didn't want to fight Malfoy anymore. It was rather pointless, and had been since finding out there was more shit for him to deal with than petty bickering and rivalry. He himself rather thought Malfoy was acting for the sake of his reputation and beloved Slytherin audience – and his father – than anything else. The last few times he fought with Malfoy he had felt only anger, not hatred like he expected, rolling off the blond in waved.

"Right Harry?" Ron broke into his thoughts. Harry panicked for a second wondering what he was supposed to be agreeing with, before Hermione saved him in the nick of time.

"Yes it would be funny Ron, but I'm sure Harry is rather tired from getting here." Harry looked over to Hermione and smiled his first real smile that summer in silent thanks. She'd been watching him thoughtfully, still possessing a look of abject horror and sadness, though it was toned down since his outburst.

Harry got up and moved around the table to the sink, rinsing his plate off and setting it down. He grabbed the rolls that were by the stove and turned back to face them. Ron dropped himself down into the place he had vacated, turning his blue eyes onto Hermione, who shook her head slightly at the look from him. _'What the hell is going on with these two?'_

The anger, which had finally died down in Harry, started to rise again. He had told them what happened with his summer, now it was their turn.

"Actually," he waited until both looked up at him, "fill me in now. Your letters have been pretty useless." He didn't want to say it that way, but the little barb flashed guilt across their faces and he found himself not at all sorry for it. They _were_ hiding something and it, like their concern over him, grated his nerves. Had he not shared almost every little detail of his life with them until now? Had he not shared his dreams of Voldemort or the details of what happened with Cho last year, or everything that happened when they weren't there to watch over him? Did they feel they couldn't trust him?

"Harry, you know we'd tell you everything once you got here. Moody and Dumbledore don't want us to put anything in letters that give anything away. You know that from last year." Hermione intoned calmly. Harry knew she was right; their letters couldn't have had anything important in them in case they were intercepted.

"Alright… so tell me. What's happening with the Ministry? Are they getting prepared? What's happening in Azkaban – the dementors – what's the Order doing? What's Voldemort up to? What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked in a rush, "What have you two been doing, or the twins or Ginny? Why leave me until August?" His stomach flipped over when he mentioned Dumbledore. His anger at the two in front of him quelled down as guilt over yelling at Dumbledore and destroying his things at the end of June surfaced. He wouldn't blame the wizard if he was angry or ignored Harry for the year again after that. No wonder he might have wanted to leave Harry at the Dursleys until August.

"Enough – that's enough, you three. Harry just got here! He needs some sleep. You can fill him in on everything tomorrow," demanded Mrs. Weasley, interrupting from the doorway. Harry looked over and saw Lupin standing behind her, still looking at Harry with a shadow of emotion Harry couldn't place. It touched Harry, not with guilt or anger, but with a peaceful realization: He still had Lupin.

"She's right. I should get some sleep. Same bedroom as last year?" Harry said abruptly, setting the rolls back down on the counter forgotten as he addressed Mrs. Weasley and Lupin with the last question. Lupin opened his mouth, but Ron beat him to it.

"Ah, no. Dumbledore gave you your own room on the second floor, next to the bathroom. Don't know why, really."

Anger flooded Harry's senses again. He was glad he wouldn't have to share a room with the redhead, just simply to maintain his sanity. His emotions were becoming one big roller coaster from seeing everyone. Being in the house, seeing that Hermione and Ron were in their own little world, being concerned for all of a sudden… he suddenly felt nauseous. He swayed slightly as he made to leave the kitchen. Hermione, who had been watching him, made a move to get up when she saw him sway. Lupin took him by the arm and led him upstairs. Mrs. Weasley moved out of the way to let them through.

Ron and Hermione looked at her once Harry disappeared from sight.

"Looks like he ate a little too fast, poor dear." Mrs. Weasley said as she suddenly busied herself with finishing washing the dishes.

"Mum… aren't you concerned about him? He looks half dead! He was beaten and starved!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione shook her head slightly at Ron's unbelievable tact. He really wasn't paying attention; Mrs. Weasley's back was turned to them, and her shoulders were shaking as she cried. She couldn't really answer him.

"Ron, your mother's worried sick about Harry, be a little more respectful. She thinks of him as one of the family and she's seen him at the worst possible moment. He just lost Sirius, and he's been holed away at the Dursleys. She can't possibly ignore the state he's in, and you're not helping it any." Hermione whispered fiercely in his ear. Hermione apologized to Mrs. Weasley and grabbed Ron's arm, dragging him from the kitchen.

.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.

Draco woke up the moment whatever foul banshee downstairs decided to start screeching.

"FILTH! TAINTED BLOOD, FOUL CREATURES –"

"OH, PUT A SOCK IN IT!"

He rolled over and stared at the clock on the nightstand. It was well past dinnertime. He had woken up earlier, but when he heard all the Weasleys galloping about, he hadn't felt like dealing with them long enough to sit through an entire meal with them. From what he understood, only the Weasley woman knew. She'd brought up a plate of food for him to eat when he hadn't shown for dinner and watched him like a hawk until he ate it all, saying he was too skinny. She wasn't that bad. She seemed much like a motherly hen.

Voices could be heard now, downstairs. Draco tried to discern what was being said, but they were hushed, sounding like murmurs. One was obviously the Weasley woman; he knew her voice from when she had been up in his room. She had yelled at whatever started yelling first. The other two voices he didn't recognize. The murmurs sounded worried. Was she telling others about him staying there?

Draco sat up on the bed and slid off gracefully, moving carefully to the door. He pulled it open slightly and peered down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. The voices were louder now that he wasn't listening through the door.

He could only hear fragments where the Weasley woman was saying things like "It's a wonder he's alive" and "How could they let this get so far?" Draco ran a hand through his hair as he strained to hear from the other two voices what exactly they were talking about.

"It'd be easier if you used one of these, Malfoy."

Draco whipped around to face the young redheaded Weasley girl. She was holding up a long fleshy-colored tube and looking at him with curiosity and amusement.

"What are you talking about?" He paused waiting for her to ask why he was there, but when she continued looking at him, he voiced the question.

"Oh, I overheard them talking about you with Snape this afternoon." She waved her hand in the air, dismissing it. "And I'm talking about hearing what they're saying. I have an extra Extendable Ear from Fred and George, and it would be much easier to hear what mum, Lupin, and Tonks are talking about if you used it."

Draco just looked at her suspiciously, as if she were insane, standing there in the hallway talking to him about eavesdropping like it were an everyday thing.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." She pushed him back into his room and followed him in. She shut the door behind her and looked at him. "Mum'll go batty if she found us talking out in the hall." She tsked. "She doesn't trust us at all."

"What are you on about, Weasley? Why are you even talking to me?" The girl should have positively been steaming mad at him for the way he'd treated her family. He couldn't understand why she was willingly talking to him.

"As I said, Malfoy, I overheard Snape talking to mum in the kitchen. And if Dumbledore trusts you enough to have you here, I don't see why I can't talk to you. Besides, you'll have enough trouble to go on with once Ron figures or finds out you're staying here." She looked at him expectantly.

"Alright… so what are you on about then, Weasley? Your mother doesn't trust you?"

"My name's Ginny, Malfoy. And no, mum doesn't trust any of us kids. Might have something to do with us trying to interfere with every meeting they've had, trying to hear what they're talking about in and outside of meetings, or Fred and George's inventions that help with that." She held up the fleshy thing again.

Draco took of that in. "Okay… and what's that?" He pointed to the cord.

"This is an Extendable Ear. You put this side in your ear, the other part goes down close to mum and the others, and you can hear what they're saying." She made to give him the Extendable Ear, but more yelling drifted up from the kitchen.

"Oh, goody, sounds like you won't need it." Ginny turned her back on the blond and opened the door, allowing the yelling to be heard. Draco scrunched his face up when he heard about muggles. The voice sounded awfully familiar.

"… Who is it?" he asked the young Weasley – Ginny, he reminded himself. He had to get on better terms with these people if he was going to stay there. At least with the girl, she didn't seem half bad. Not like the Weasel, at any rate.

Ginny looked at him surprised, "Don't you recognize Harry's voice?"

Draco's traitor heart skipped a beat. "Potter's here?"

"Yeah, sounds like he's having a go at Hermione and my brother."

Draco stared at the open door next to Ginny. Potter was downstairs somewhere. Ginny must have mistaken the look on his face because she spoke up quickly.

"Don't go fighting with Harry, Malfoy, I'm warning you. It's a wonder Lupin and Tonks ever even got him into this house again, he doesn't need to have fighting you added to the lot."

"Lupin, the werewolf? Who's Tonks, and why exactly is it a wonder he'd come back? Sev said almost exactly the same thing." Draco was curious now. They all seemed dead concerned for their Wonder Boy.

"It's not my place to tell you why he might not come back. Tonks is one of the Order. I believe she's a cousin or something of yours in fact." Ginny answered him honestly.

"Alright. I'm not going to fight with Ha – Potter. It's still a wonder _you're_ talking to me normally." Draco assured her. He didn't know why, but she was easy enough to like.

"Good. I could say the same for you. Don't you hate my family or something?"

"… Change of heart, I guess. My father expected it, but he's not around anymore, and I've been able to rethink some things. 'Sides, the Weasel is the only one who really bothers me." Draco sat down on the bed and looked at her, expecting her to defend the Weasel.

"My brother is brainless sometimes." Ginny grinned at him suddenly. "I haven't had anyone to talk to really all summer. Hermione and Ron have been too wrapped up in each other to notice. And I can't wait 'til Ron finds out I've been chatting with the Evil One."

Draco laughed, "The Evil One? Is that what he calls me?" He had to admit it now; the girl wasn't bad at all. He couldn't believe she'd been ignored almost all of summer.

"Ohh, he calls you all sorts of things. He calls you Ferret-boy, mostly. Funny, seems how you call him Weasel." Ginny stilled next to the door.

Draco's face crumbled into a sulk. "Damn, I hate that name."

"Be quiet, someone's coming." She pulled the door shut just in time. Someone passed the door quickly and went into the bathroom. They could hear someone retching even with the door shut.

"Uergh. Disgusting." Draco made a face. Ginny also made a face before biting her lip in concentration.

"What?" 

"It's Harry."

Draco looked at her in almost awed exasperation. "Is there any moment where you can't tell when it's Harry?" He didn't like it, but he sounded almost jealous of the young Weasley. What should he care if she could pinpoint Potter's voice anywhere, anytime? He shouldn't, damnit.

Ginny stared at him for a minute before answering, "You called him Harry."

"Oh." _'Damn'._ "So?"

"You usually call him Potter or some other name. When did you start calling him Harry?"

"Since never. It slipped because you said it. Anyway, can you always tell when it's him?"

Ginny looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, usually I can. I had a crush on him first through third year."

"You don't any longer?" Draco stared at her, waiting for her answer.

"He's more of a brother now. I'm going out with one of his dorm mates." She replied coolly.

"So Potter's in there puking his guts out?" He was starting to wonder about Potter now. He didn't seem the sickly type; he was more of a healthy Hero. _'What the fuck is going on?'_

"Not anymore." She listened for a second. "He's talking to Lupin." Of course. He'd always been friendly with the Werewolf back in third year when he'd been Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

Draco shook his head. "You don't need those Ear things, you have super hearing as it is."

Ginny beamed at him. "Yes, well, now that Harry's here, Mum'll be coming by to do bed checks soon enough. You should come out of your room tomorrow. There are plenty of other rooms to look around in and now I can have someone else to talk to besides Ron's owl."

"Hey, now that you mention it, whose house is this, anyway?" Draco asked quickly before she left.

Ginny was quiet a moment. "It's being used as Order headquarters. I don't know whom it belongs to now. Night Malfoy." She tossed the Extendable Ear to him and exited the room.

Draco stared at the long cord, thinking over what just happened. God he was confused.

.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.

Lupin helped Harry up the stairs to the second floor bathroom, giving Harry just enough time to lean over the toilet before losing his stomach's content. He lost everything he had just eaten, ending in a few dry heaves.

Harry shut the seat of the toilet and flushed, resting his head against the porcelain. He felt empty and horrible; his head was starting to pound from everything that had happened so far.

Lupin sat down on the side of the bathtub and waited until Harry was done. He watched as pain, anger and loneliness passed across Harry's face before finally settling on grief. Damn he hated the muggles Harry was forced to live with. He'd give anything to be able to turn around and go back to give them a piece of his mind and magic.

"God, when will it stop hurting so much, Lupin?" The quiet, pain-filled question that was burning inside the young boy leaked out. Lupin stared at Harry's back as he took in long, heavy breaths, trying not to cry in front of the older man.

"I don't know, Harry. Sometimes, it won't be noticeable, other times it will become unbearable." Lupin touched Harry's back, making the boy meet his eyes. "Sirius loved you. Just like your parents. He'd expect a grieving period, but he wouldn't want you to waste your life away, Harry."

Harry just looked at Lupin. He knew what he was saying was right, but it was painful to accept. Sirius was gone. He'd had trouble accepting it all summer. Lupin probably had just as much trouble accepting Sirius's death, if not more; he had known Sirius for a lot longer than Harry.

Lupin himself didn't look like he was better off than Harry, though Harry expected Lupin had eaten well enough since Mrs. Weasley was there to ensure it. Lupin's eyes had circles under them, probably from sleepless nights. He was still dressed in the muggle clothes he had on when he picked up Harry. Harry hadn't been paying attention to the moon's cycles; it looked as if Lupin had undergone his werewolf transformation not long ago.

"Thank you, Lupin." Harry followed his urge and hugged the man as if his life depended on it. Lupin, to Harry's surprise, hugged him back equally as fierce.

"Harry, call me Moony or Remus. I'm here if you need to talk or anything. Don't let it get this bad again though, you'll scare everyone out of their wits."

Harry gave Lupin a small half smile. "Alright, Moony." Yes, he did still have Lupin.

Lupin had known both his parents and Sirius for a lot longer than he had, and he couldn't believe he hadn't turned to Lupin in the first place. He thought of him as a close friend and the best substitute for the parents he'd never had besides Sirius. He should have written to Lupin about his grief a lot sooner.

"You'll be here tomorrow, right?" Harry watched as a small smile lit up Lupin's face finally at his question.

"At some point, I should be dropping in. You should probably get a shower or some sleep right now though, or Molly will have my head for keeping you up talking so late."

_'Eurgh… I haven't had a shower in a week.'_ Harry thought, pulling back from Moony, making a face while cringing.

"Shower it is then. I'll tell Molly." Moony laughed as he left the bathroom to Harry. He walked back down the stairs with a bounce in his steps that hadn't been there before.

.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.

After the very needed and refreshing shower, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way out of the steamy bathroom to his room. Ron had said it was next to the bathroom.

Sure enough, the door next to the bathroom was open and his trunk had been moved inside. The door across from his was closed, and Harry wondered if Ron was sleeping in there, or Ginny and Hermione.

Harry had time in the shower to reflect over the evening. He felt really terrible about how his mood had fluctuated so much when he had been talking to Ron and Hermione. It really wasn't their fault they couldn't put anything in letters, and they had seemed honestly happy to see him, if not a bit in shock about his physical state. He would have to apologize to them tomorrow, or today, as it was a little past midnight. He still hadn't figured out if he'd tell them about the prophecy or not. It was just cause to worry about him more, and he didn't need that. He just needed his friends to be just that: friends. He had Mrs. Weasley and Moony to worry about him, and he was grateful. It meant people cared about him, something he shouldn't get upset about.

Ron and Hermione still had to answer his questions in the morning, however.

Harry pulled on clean boxers and a shirt from his trunk before towel-drying his hair enough to lie down on the bed. His stomach growled from being filled and then emptied so quickly. Harry had felt almost sick again when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He hadn't thought he was that bad off, when if fact he was worse than he possibly dreamed. The cuts on his head, particularly the one gash on his scalp, looked angry, red, and infected. The bruises were now a sickly green-and-yellow faded coloring. The blotchy blue-and-purple ones on his chest and arms stood out on his pale skin. He could count the ribs under his discolored skin, and he was skinnier than ever before. He was just plain sickly.

Harry made a promise to eat slower tomorrow to try and keep something down, and to go out in the sun at some point the next day. He wouldn't waste away like Moony had said.

Harry thought a little more about what he would do tomorrow, in the dreadful house, before drifting off to a fitful sleep.

Unbeknownst to him, a blond slept across the hallway, dreaming of him and the own events he'd witnessed that day.

* * *

**A/N:** Hurray, second chapter. I couldn't follow my Next Chapter questions for this chapter. I thought it was too soon for them to see each other, and they'd had enough of an eventful day. Hopefully everyone liked it. How's the whole Ginny-Draco friendship? I wasn't sure about that.

**Glyph:** ta, thanks for pointing out the error.  
**NiamhAingeal:** Thank you soo much for your positive feedback! It makes me blush. I hope the chapter was up to snuff for you, for waiting so long =)  
**Ssjmiraitrks:** I'm glad you like it!  
**Arwen Urodumiel:** Thank you! We'll see how Harry reacts, I promise!  
**Hermione21:** thanks! Hope you like the new chapter.  
**Robin the bird:** Thanks! Hopefully you like where it's going.  
**Sheree:** Ahh, your review made me want to make them get on his nerves (just a bit!), but I don't think I did it justice.  
**BiF NAKED:** Nice name, good band! Hope you don't mind me not answering all the questions, but they'll come into play soon enough.

**Next Chapter:** Next day at Black Manor, Harry eats! And goes outside like he promised himself! And apologizes to Ron and Hermione! Ginny will visit Draco again and we might hear more of this special truce Draco wants. Will Harry finally meet Malfoy? Will Ron freak out like a little girl – if he finds out? Hmmmm…


	3. Getting Some Facts, Proposing a Truce

**Recap:** Ginny was quiet a moment. "It's being used as Order headquarters. I don't know whom it belongs to now. Night Malfoy." She tossed the Extendable Ear to him and exited the room.  
.::.  
Unbeknownst to Harry, a blond slept across the hallway, dreaming of him and the own events he'd witnessed that day. 

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**Mad About You  
Chapter Three – Getting Some Facts, Proposing a Truce  
**Grimmauld Place, next day

Harry awoke to the smell of sausage wafting up from the kitchen. He rolled over on the bed and faced the closed door of his room. Bright light was flooding in through a small crack in the curtain against the window opposite of the door, so Harry knew he had slept in longer than usual. He'd have been expected to already be downstairs and done cooking breakfast already, at the Dursleys'.

_'Thank Merlin, I'm away from there. This bed's actually big enough to hold me,'_ he thought, arching his back to stretch. He sat up and looked around his room. It had an empty portrait above a dark mahogany desk, which was next to closet cabinets that appeared to belong in a set with the desk and the nightstand next to the twin bed he was in. Harry stared at the portrait, framed by a single silver snake curving around it. It was most likely the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, moved from his room with Ron and put in here to keep an eye on him for Dumbledore.

Getting up out of the bed, Harry pulled on the pair of jeans from yesterday, socks and shoes, and changed into a dark grey T-shirt. The T-shirt hung loosely, even though Hermione had gotten it for him last year. Harry didn't bother brushing his hair, as it wouldn't really help any.

Harry noted that the door across from his was still closed as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. His stomach was protesting the smell of food loudly as he got down the stairs to the kitchen and table. Ron and Hermione were already in there, eating breakfast, along with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

Harry gave a small nod to Ron and Hermione as he sat down heavily across from them, next to Ginny. Ginny smiled at Harry before doing a double take. Her smile faded slightly as she saw his condition, but she didn't comment on it, and Harry was grateful.

"Hey Harry" was all she said before continuing to eat.

"Morning dear, better eat up." Mrs. Weasley handed Harry a plate as he looked gingerly at the surrounding food: sausages, toast, eggs, and biscuits were heaped onto the table. Harry forked a little of each onto his plate and stared at it. Ron and Hermione were looking at him from across the table.

"It's not going to disappear sitting there, Harry," Ron chided him. He himself had heaped his plate with small mountains of everything on the table, and was busy again shoveling it all into his mouth. Hermione just sat next to him, staring at Harry again.

"You look well-rested," she added in when he looked at her.

"Yeah, thanks," the sarcasm shone through and they both looked back down to their plates. Why did they have to comment on the way he looked again, first thing in the morning?

Harry ate through his food slowly, trying to ease the dull aching that started in his stomach again.

He noticed that Ginny had another plate next to her that she began filling with food once she was done with her own. She nodded to her mum then took the plate, along with a glass of orange juice, up the stairs.

Ron and Hermione also seemed to notice because they looked to Mrs. Weasley as soon as Ginny disappeared.

"Where's she going, mum? She's already eaten a plate and a half, she isn't still hungry, is she?" Ron spoke up first, the confusion clear on his face.

"She's taking food upstairs for someone, Ron. Mind your business," Mrs. Weasley continued hustling about near the sink.

Ron gave an alarmed look at his mother's back, which he turned to Harry and Hermione. Harry shrugged at Ron, and kept eating. He wasn't feeling nauseous like he'd been last night, and that was a good improvement, though his appetite was smaller than it should be.

Mrs. Weasley moved after Ginny through the door, apparently finished cleaning up. That left him alone with Ron and Hermione. He wanted to tell them he was sorry for last night, but he could only stare at his food. He couldn't understand why he didn't want to be around them. When he'd been stuck at Privet Drive, all he wanted to do was see and be with them. Now that he was though, all he wanted to do was go be alone in his room.

"So were you guys going to tell me what's been going on?" He asked before he could stop himself. He was still a little curious as to what had been happening.

"Of course. What do you want to know first, Harry?" Hermione looked at him from across the table. Ron stopped eating and joined her in looking at him.

"Well, what's the Ministry doing?" Harry asked, forgetting his food. Ron seemed to notice, though. He frowned, furrowing his brow at Harry's plate, before covering it up by shoveling more food into his mouth.

"Much of nothing." Off Harry's confused look she added, "Voldemort's been lying low still. But they've done as much as could be expected. They've begun questioning suspected Death Eaters, and are working to make brochures and booklets for wizarding families on safety. Fudge's in a spot of trouble for putting everyone in jeopardy for so long by denying his return."

"Yeah, he's taken to sending notes to Dumbledore, asking for advice. If he gets in trouble again, they're going to can him." Ron said seriously, waving his fork around.

"What about Azkaban? The dementors?" It didn't surprise Harry that Fudge was on probation. The stupid git had refused to believe him and Dumbledore for a year. A small part of Harry wished Voldemort _were_ doing something, to put Fudge in an even tighter spot with the Ministry. Then he felt bad for thinking anything of the sort.

"Well… the dementors have left Azkaban. The Ministry's got a bunch of their Aurors there. Tonks and Kingsley have shifts there." Hermione supplied. She noticed Harry had stopped eating now too.

Harry sighed to himself. "What's the Order doing?" Hermione shared a look with Ron again. He wished they would stop doing that.

Ron answered him this time. "We don't know. They still won't tell us. Snape's been coming about more recently, as horrible as ever. He seemed kind of different yesterday though." Harry's look turned absolutely murderous at the mention of Snape, whom he still blamed terribly – beside himself, that is – for Sirius's death.

"I don't want to hear about that pillock." Harry downright growled out to his two friends. He stood abruptly from the table and stalked back to his room through the door, leaving them to stare in shock at his retreat.

Harry trumped up the stairs from the basement then made an abrupt turn down the hall, going through a door into the backyard.

.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.

The darkness in his room receded as the sun rose in the sky. The light bothered Draco and disturbed his slumber something terrible. It wasn't until a knock sounded on his door that he woke up fully and sat up.

"Come in," he said harshly after smoothing back his hair with his hand to be somewhat presentable.

"Let me in, I can't open the door," Ginny's voice coaxed through the door. Draco automatically slid out of bed, pulling a shirt over his head and grabbing for pants. There was no way in hell he'd willingly let a Weasley see him in his boxers, even if she was nice.

Ginny waited patiently outside, hearing him move around inside the room. She smiled when he opened the door, in pressed grey pants and a black shirt, his hair still a little mussed.

Draco immediately noticed the smile did not reach her eyes, which were looking slightly pained. She was wearing a worn blue T-shirt and jeans. His eyes lit up when he saw the food she had and he moved aside to let her in. She set the orange juice down on his nightstand and handed him the plate of food.

"Figured you wouldn't want to eat with Ron and Hermione down there."

"Got that right." Draco took the plate and sat down on the bed, rolling his eyes. He started eating while she sat down at the foot of his bed. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and the pained look in her eyes was spreading over her face.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He didn't know why he cared – no, he didn't care. He was just curious.

Ginny tore her gaze from the door to look at him. "Harry." She said simply.

_'What did he do now, run away? What is it with that boy and being in trouble?'_ Draco wondered. He felt weird inside, like his stomach was twisting itself. _'Out of all the people I could have ended up liking, why did it have to be Harry Potter?'_ he wondered, not for the first time.

"What's wrong with Potter now?" Draco asked, hiding the worry on his face before Ginny noticed.

"It's no wonder he was sick last night. He looked… really bad," Ginny made a small growl, sounding like Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger cat. "Those goddamn muggles he has to stay with had something to do with it, I'd put my life on it. They're horrible."

Draco looked at the redhead in surprise of her swearing, especially towards muggles.

"They'd treat the Golden Boy of Hogwarts badly?" Draco had never _really_ heard much about the people Harry stays with. He always thought he'd been treated like a king when away from Hogwarts. His question made Ginny laugh for some reason.

"Merlin, I really shouldn't tell you all of this about him. Knowing you, you'd just use it against him by throwing it in his face." She smoothed down his bedspread with her hand, looking towards the door again.

"Weas- Ginny, I don't think after this summer, I'll be throwing much of anything in his face."

"What do you mean?" She looked back towards him, eyeing his face to see if he was serious or not.

"Nah-ah, you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine." He took a sip of the orange juice, smirking into the glass as she rolled her eyes.

"Harry lives with horrible muggles who hate wizards and everything magical. Up until his Hogwarts letter, they treated him like their own little House-Elf. Your Second Year, I heard Ron talking about how they'd locked him up in his room, bars on his window, and feeding him through a flap on the door. His cousin used to beat him before, so I wouldn't put it past them to beat him now. I don't know everything, this is only what I've heard from my family." Ginny poured out.

Draco frowned. Harry lived with people like that? He deserved more. He should at least live with wizards! Wait, why doesn't he?

"Why doesn't he live with you Weasleys?"

"Believe me, we'd be more than happy to take him in, but Dumbledore wants him to stay there, so we can't argue. We do usually get him for the last month of summer and school holidays." Ginny answered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you cared, Malfoy."

"Who said I did?" He set the now empty plate down and turned to face her.

Ginny gave a little shrug. "No one. Malfoys don't care, right? Now tell me what you meant earlier."

"I meant exactly what I said. I've been rethinking my decisions this summer. I want a… truce with Potter." Draco skirted. Ginny's eyes widened as she stared at him.

"What? Am I not allowed to have a truce with His Greatness?" Draco said defensively. _'Why's she have to look at me like I'm insane?'_

"You, Draco Malfoy, want to get in Harry Potter's, The Boy-Who-Lived, good graces? Now I would definitely think you hit your head. What makes you think he'll agree to it?"

Draco stood up from the bed and made his way to the window. He was quiet for a few minutes, as he studied the dead garden in the backyard.

He spoke up with his back still turned to her, "I don't know. I'll keep trying if he says no." Draco's eyes lit up and his stomach flipped when he saw the object of their conversation, and his heart, enter the backyard and kick at the dirt, facing away from the house.

"Speaking of the Saint, I'm going to talk to him." Draco turned around and Ginny stood up.

"What are you gonna do if you see Ron or Hermione?"

Draco paused and looked at her. "Tell the Weasel off?" He suggested, only half-seriously.

"He'll blow a gasket if he sees you here, Malfoy." She stated.

"If you're so worried about me while I talk to your Boy Wonder, keep the two of them busy. At least keep a look out." Draco scooped up his wand from his nightstand and patted down his body, wondering where he'd store it.

"Even _I'm_ not going to let you take your wand out to meet him, Malfoy." Ginny raised her eyebrows at him.

He raised a slim eyebrow back at her and drawled in true Malfoy fashion, "You could almost give me a run for my money with that look, Weasley. I'm not going to go hex your savior. I told you I've rethought some things. It wouldn't do any good to off him now."

He pushed his wand into a pocket and moved to the door. "Coming to look out for me?"

.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.

Harry threw himself down on one of the stone benches in the dry, dreary garden. He'd never really been out in the backyard before.

Glancing around, he saw long-dead flowerbeds surrounding likewise grass. Huge grey pots with gargoyle faces protruding from the sides, holding crispy dry plants and dead sticks, were places throughout the yard. Three benches, one of which he sat on, were in the middle of a stone patio next to the house. Any tree that could have been in the yard, alone with bushes, were barren and cold looking. It was his kind of place right now.

"Them and their stupid looks, and bringing up _Snape_ of all people…" Harry muttered darkly.

He bit his lip in anger, tears welling up in his eyes as he once again thought of Sirius. He'd been here with him just last Christmas… singing songs and decorating the house…

"RRAAUURRGH!!!" Harry yelled up at the blue sky in anguish, slamming his fists down on the stone. Tears slid down his pale cheeks.

"You really shouldn't bottle your anger up like that, Potter." A terribly familiar drawl sounded from behind him. _'Shit.'_

Harry turned to face the figure of his rival with hardened eyes. He didn't bother standing up; it was useless, his wand was in the house, in his room. Defenseless, angry, sad and feeling suddenly very cold inside, he studied his enemy.

His white blond hair had grown since June, now curling around his ears, and his lithe seeker frame had grown taller than Harry's.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, his black V-necked shirt fitting over his slim form, showing off his lightly muscled chest that would have otherwise been hidden by school robes. Harry's eyes moved up to Malfoy's face.

Malfoy's face held the usual smirk, but his eyes were also studying Harry, and by the intense look in them, he did not like whatever he saw of Harry, like everyone else. Of course, it could have just been that he was looking at his enemy, and the intense look was hate for him. So why didn't he say anything malicious towards Harry?

Harry realized Malfoy had been speaking to him again, when his eyes slipped down to his moving mouth.

"What?"

"I asked, Potter, why you're staring at me like a hungry dog would a piece of meat?" Though his words were cool, inside Draco's heart pounded a little faster at the look Potter had given him.

For Harry, the anger he'd been feeling so close to the surface flooded his senses again. Malfoy's comment of a hungry dog reminded him of Sirius even more and his eyes hardened, suddenly remembering where he was.

"What. The. _Fuck_. Are. You. Doing. Here, Malfoy?" Harry ground out, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes glinting.

"Dumbledore regally invited me here, Potter. No need to get your knickers in a twist." Draco explained, taking a few steps toward the angry boy. He should have expected that much, at least, from Harry.

Harry snorted, "Oh yes, and why exactly would the Professor want you here?" Harry twisted his torso back around. A dangerous move really, turning his back to a known enemy, but at that point he really didn't care. Besides, if he really thought about it, if Dumbledore brought Malfoy, Harry shouldn't really complain. He could, but it would accomplish nothing. And he trusted Dumbledore.

Malfoy took Harry's silence as enough of an invite to come closer. He smoothly sat down beside him on the stone bench, his hands out of his pockets and curled around the edge behind him, bracing him as he leaned back.

"You realize you just turned your back to me, Potter? I could have hexed you into oblivion by now for Merlin's sake." He commented.

Harry gave a small half-shrug. "So I did. Would you really hex me?"

"With whatever the Order is just a few feet away? Unlikely. I'm smarter than that I'll have you know." He answered indignantly. "What's wrong exactly, Potter? The Weasley Woman was probably beside herself with motherly grief when she saw you."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin next to him. There was no hate or mocking in his voice, nor on his face, only an indescribable emotion. Strangely, Harry didn't feel any anger at the comment pointed towards his appearance.

"Has no one told you, Malfoy?" The bitterness leaked into his question.

Draco chanced a glance towards Harry, his stomach giving a lurch as if he missed a disappearing step on one of the Hogwarts staircases.

"Only Snape, Weasley Woman and the littlest Weasley know I'm here." Draco revealed truthfully. "I'd rather hear it from the source."

Harry studied him for a second. Why he was sitting down and spilling his guts to Draco Malfoy, he didn't know, but… it didn't feel wrong.

"The Dursleys – the muggles I live with – did this." He explained, motioning to the bruises and cuts on his head.

"And the weight loss?" Malfoy questioned, eyeing Harry's middle. It made Harry flush and look away.

"What do you care, Malfoy? Why are you even talking to me?" Harry said roughly, keeping his eyes on the pot nearest them.

"… You're right, I don't." Draco looked away from Harry.

They sat in silence for a while, each sneaking small glances at the other. Here Draco was, having an almost civil conversation with Harry-bleeding-Potter, or at least he had been. Draco felt a small urge in his chest to scoot closer and put his arm around the boy who looked so adorably lost in his own mind.

Harry stood up suddenly, ruining the small daydream Draco had been caught in. He made his way towards the house, Draco staring at him in surprise before calling out for him to wait. Draco followed him, stopping short when he was next to him.

"Harry, I want a truce with you. I've had the freedom this summer to decide some things on my own, and now that I've tasted that freedom and realized a few things, I don't want to give it up to serve that old bastard. I want to help the Order in what they're doing, I want to help you." He said with only a few pauses, rushing the end. Draco looked into Harry's eyes and instead of disbelief or suspicion like he expected to see, he saw a softness he'd only seen when Harry had been with Weasel and Granger. He rather liked the look being given to him now.

"You called me Harry." _'Damn Draco!'_

"So I did." He tensed a little, waiting for Harry to cut him down.

"We've been on last name terms for as long as I can remember." Okay, so it wasn't exactly what he expected.

"Okay, so I won't call you Harry, Potter! Do you accept my offer?" Draco said agitated. He didn't really want to give up the unsaid privilege, but…

"No…" Draco could have sworn his heart froze at the softly spoken word. _'Should have expected he wouldn't want anything to do with me.'_

Harry continued, "No, you can call me Harry. I… kind of like it," He ducked his head, "And I accept – as long as you don't call Hermione a Mudblood anymore, or make fun of Ron's family."

Draco sighed and pretended to think it over, scratching his chin. Inside, his heart was leaping at Harry saying he liked him calling him by his name, and his stomach gave a pleasurable squirm being granted the privilege from Harry himself.

"Alright, alright. I promise not to call Granger Mudblood, or to have a go at Weasel's family," on an afterthought, he added, "His mother and sister aren't that bad actually. The girl's dead useful and sneaky; Her hearing's amazing."

Harry looked surprised about this, specifically at Draco's compliments. The surprise was masked with a frown as he thought about Ron and Hermione.

"They don't know I'm here, Harry." Draco reminded him. "Ginny's keeping lookout while I talk to you, I doubt they'd be happy with me being here, or me talking to you."

Harry smiled slightly to lighten the mood. "Ron'd freak. So you've been getting along with Ginny then? How long have you been here?"

"Got here yesterday afternoon." Draco's own face clouded over briefly as he thought about his mother's new comatose state. "You know, Ginny could tell it was you being sick last night within a few seconds? Scary that is."

Harry covered his face in embarrassment. "You heard that?"

Draco smirked in true Malfoy fashion again. "Bathroom's across from my bedroom. You didn't answer my question earlier, either."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I know I didn't. You didn't answer mine either about why exactly you're here. I have a feeling Ron and Hermione'll be wondering where I've disappeared to though." When Draco raised an eyebrow, Harry said, "I've never been out here, hard as it may be to believe."

"The garden _is_ pretty much dead. Of course, I might have guessed it was dead because you'd been out here in it."

Harry grinned at the slight barb, "Yes, but I, unlike you, know how to garden, Malfoy."

Draco gave his own smile. _'So he remembers that, hm?'_ "Yes, but you, unlike I, are a Scarhead." Harry moved to thwap his hand against Malfoy's shoulder, which he dodged easily. "And you can call me Draco, Harry."

"Draco the Git is more like it." Harry began walking towards the house again, Draco keeping pace right beside him.

"Can't do any better than that, eh?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the blond and opened the door, pushing him inside before going inside himself.

Just as they entered, a certain redhead skidded to a halt in front of them. "Malfoy!"

* * *

****

**A/N:** Hurray third chapter! I had to end it there, because I wanted to update. Anyways… They met! Mwahaha. Geez, that was a lame cliffhanger..

Thank you for the reviews everyone!   
**Sheree:** Don't worry about it. I kinda wanted Harry to be mad at them for awhile. And I think Ron will _always_ freak out when he finds out about Draco. Eventually, I'll make him quit being a blobhead though.  
**Robin the bird:** I'm happy you like it. Hope how they met fit well with how they've been acting; I have trouble following through with that stuff.  
**BiF NAKED:** Thanks! I love reading long stories/pages. Ginny's gonna have an actual role in this story because of the friendship with Draco, I hope. She's ignored a lot of times.  
**venilia:** I like Lupin! I've always thought Harry would turn to him since Sirius's death. Thanks for your words  
**Civenus:** Harry/Draco is my favorite couple at the moment. Ginny/Draco is hard for me to imagine.  
Sorry if I failed to mention anyone!


	4. Great Day

**Recap:** Harry rolled his eyes at the blond and opened the door, pushing him inside before going inside himself.

Just as they entered, a certain redhead skidded to a halt in front of them. "Malfoy!"

* * *

**  
Mad About You  
Chapter Four: Great Day  
**Near France

A large, sprawling flat lay on the outskirts of a muggle town near France. No one knew the owner, never seen him or her, never knew anything other than that he/she was a recluse, apparently. It never bothered anyone, as the place was far enough away that they never heard any loud noises, and that suited them fine. How wrong they were.

For the bane of the whole Wizarding World, and a small handful of highly dangerous followers had taken refuge there.

Deacon Smythwyckt appeared outside with a resounding 'pop.' His master was expecting a report – a report that he would find only half-pleasing.

He entered the house and quickly made his way up to the room his master was currently in. It was lit only by fire from the fireplace, casting mysterious shadows around the scarce furniture.

Lord Voldemort sat in one of the plush chairs by the lit fireplace, idly stroking his giant snake's head.

In a cold, demeaning voice, he spoke. "Enter, Smythwyckt."

Smythwyckt walked directly over to the robed form of his master and knelt. "My lord, I bring news about the recruitment." His head was lowered further than the height of Voldemort's knees, and he refused to look up. Voldemort waited for him to continue.

"I-I've gone to visit Malfoy Manor, about his son."

"Your attempt was unsuccessful." It was more of a statement than a question. '_He knows.'_

"Yes, my Lord. His wife, Narcissa, stopped me from t-taking him for you." Smythwyckt crouched even lower, if possible. He hurriedly continued, if only to lessen the severity of the punishment for failure, "I took care of Narcissa, so it shall be easier next time."

"Quick thinking, Smythwyckt. You might prove useful yet." Voldemort's hand continued lazily stroking Nagini's scaly head.

"T-Thank you my lord, thank you." Smythwyckt simpered as he began backing out of the room, still kneeled.

Voldemort's eyes flashed as he raised his hand, now suddenly holding his wand, to pause him. "Smythwyckt? Don't ever fail me again. _Crucio._"

Smythwyckt fell completely onto the floor, bucking and writhing in agony. His mouth opened and closed, small grunts of pain escaping while his eyes squeezed shut. After a few drawn-out seconds of seeing him gasping on the floor, Voldemort lifted the curse.

"Take Synet with you and continue recruiting. Next time you report back… bring something... entertaining. Send for Bellatrix as you leave."

Smythwyckt nodded and crawled out of the room, still twitching with pain. He found the female Death Eater standing in the Entrance hall, holding a rolled up paper of some sort. He waved her up, not trusting his voice after the Cruciatus.

Voldemort waited for Bellatrix to appear, calmly returning to petting Nagini.

"These fools… it's one disappointment after another…" He hissed to her in Parseltongue. Before she could answer him, Bellatrix entered.

"Ahh, Bella… come." Bellatrix was one of his most favored Death Eaters – she was skilled with the Cruciatus Curse, and had caused Harry Potter much pain by killing Sirius Black. Yes, he had been granted sight into some of Harry's dreams of his worst memories. He took particular pleasure in making Harry relive the pain he felt at those moments fresh again like a wound refusing to close, every single dream. It was the least he could offer the boy, after getting eleven Death Eaters captured in a single night. Eleven, all because of one failed plan. The thought disgusted him that they weren't competent enough to get a simple prophecy for him without bumbling it up.

"M'lord, I bring the plans for Azkaban prison."

"Excellent." He let a cruel smile play over his features. "I knew I could count on you Bella, even after the mishap at the Department of Mysteries." She winced at the reminder, spreading the blue prints out on the coffee table in front of him, placing weights on the edges to hold it down.

"They have guards at almost every division now. They're holding Death Eaters here," She pointed to a large red block near the center of the prison, underground. "With the highest security."

"Yes, of course. With the dementors, they shouldn't be much of a problem." He sat quietly looking over the blue prints for a second, thinking of the planned breakout. It would be perfect, and he would get back his full ranks…

As he listened to Bellatrix, he smirked evilly, thinking, _'Yes, this won't be a problem at all.'_

* * *

Grimmauld Place, London

Harry's insides gave a funny leap at the exact same moment when he entered Black Manor.

"Malfoy!"

The blond in question had halted just inside the door where Harry had pushed him, staring at the redheaded boy exclaiming his name. Next to him was his devious identical twin. They looked exactly the same as last year, if not a little lankier with longer hair in mop-top styles.

"Fred! George! What are you doing here?" Harry looked at the two older boys in surprise. He hadn't expected to see them here, when it was the middle of the day and they had Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes to run.

"Harry!" They both clapped him on the shoulders. "Good to see you mate." Fred began.

"Even though you look like you've been to hell and back." George continued.

Draco bristled slightly at the comment. He clicked his tongue, "Weasleys. Never know when to stop."

Fred eyed him for a second. "So what's this ball of snaky sunshine doing here?"

"And what's he doing with you, Harry?" The mischievous glint returned to their eyes as George sighed and leaned into Fred. "Our Harry is being corrupted by the Slytherin Prince, we might just have to change the name to Prince Charming." The comment caused Draco to flush slightly.

"Ohh, look at that, he's blushing. You might be right George."

"Wait a minute – "

Fred interrupted Draco by grinning to Harry, "And here I thought you'd be the Prince if the occasion ever arose."

"I don't know, Fred, maybe he is," George added, looking over Draco.

Harry was turning red with every comment even though he didn't exactly know why. Were they implying he was gay? With his cheeks burning, he cut in, "Stop it! Malfoy and I are just friends, nothing more. I can't believe _that's_ the conclusion you two jump to, seeing us together!" Fred and George grinned at him, not looking convinced.

"He's here for a reason, and we've just made a truce. We're not together," He waved his hand embarrassedly. "… Like _that_."

Draco looked anywhere but Harry while hearing him talk. It was only further proof that Harry would never want to be with him 'like _that._' He probably thought it was disgusting anyhow. Draco had to get out of there.

"Yes well, I'm going to my room before the other Weasley decides to pop up with Granger." He didn't wait for anyone to comment before taking off up the stairs. They listened to his footsteps down the hall then his door shutting firmly before looking back down to each other.

"Princess looked upset, Harry." George said. Harry ripped his eyes off of the stairs where Draco had disappeared from and scowled at the brothers.

"So what are you two doing here?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Fred swung his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"We, my friend, are here… to test some new products…" He began.

"… And for food." George finished.

"New products?" Harry grinned. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes had taken off surprisingly well since it opened. Harry was happy he helped them out; Fred and George were geniuses when it came to jokes and tricks.

"Yep. You'll see at lunchtime." Fred's eyes glinted as he said this, George's face turning into a smile also.

_'I doubt …Draco will be at lunch,_' Harry thought, testing Malfoy's name in his head again.

Fred squeezed around Harry's shoulders, scrunching him against him. Seeing him look up the stairs with a question on his face, he added, "Don't worry about your Princess, Harry. Our target is Ron."

"I wasn't even worrying about that. Are you going to keep calling him that?" Harry frowned.

"What – yours or Princess?"

"Er… Both."

"Yes." They answered in unison with perfectly innocent looks on their faces now.

Harry sighed. _'They'll never change at least.'_

"Okay. He won't like it though. And he's not mine." Harry insisted, dragging a hand through his hair. "I've got to go do some… homework. So I'll see you guys later."

Fred and George clapped his shoulder with their hands again. "Sure thing, Prince Charming. We've got to go find Ron anyway."

"'Kay. Hey," He stopped them. "Ron and Hermione don't know he's here yet. Keep it that way?"

They nodded and headed off down the hall.

Alone again, Harry sighed. He slowly made his way upstairs. Truthfully, he _did_ have homework to do, but he also wanted to think.

* * *

Upstairs, Draco had much of the same thing to do. Talking to Harry had gone extremely well, especially from what he'd been expecting.

Draco lied on the bed, on his stomach, clutching one of the pillows to rest his head on. He'd gone straight to the bed after leaving Harry with the twins. He squeezed the pillow as he thought about their talk.

Harry actually let him talk.

Harry actually let him call him Harry.

Harry actually liked him calling him Harry.

Harry accepted the truce.

Harry looked _really_ good when he smiled.

Draco rolled over onto his back. He, Draco Malfoy, had called a truce with Harry Potter. They could be friends now, as he had wanted ever since they met. Harry had looked at him without hate or anger. And the way his eyes glittered with tears when he first turned around to face him…

Draco closed his eyes, frowning slightly as he recalled the scene. He'd been crying and yelling about something. When Draco exited the house into the backyard and seen Harry so vulnerable, all he'd wanted to do was go to him and comfort him. And when he'd seen Harry's physical state, he'd wanted to wrap his arms around Harry as he climbed into his lap and hid his face into the crook of his neck, allowing Draco time to breathe in his scent. He would rub Harry's back and tell him everything would be alright.

But Draco didn't know that. And the incredibly cynical realist in him kept budging in his nose, insisting that Harry would hardly _ever_ do such a thing.

_'Whatever,'_ He thought angrily. _'He still talked to me. That's something.'_

And he liked him calling him Harry. Had Draco mentioned that one already? His stomach did a little squirm again. Harry had called _him_ Draco. He loved it. He could definitely get used to the first name thing.

And he had the rest of the summer to look forward to seeing Harry, if not in school also.

_'Eurgh, school._' There would definitely be a problem there. Not only with the Slytherin versus Gryffindor, or all of Slytherin hating Harry, but with Slytherin themselves. They would know about his mother. They would also know he disappeared after that, and it would definitely make them suspicious.

Draco tossed the pillow up to the ceiling. He really disliked this whole situation – and he really hated Death Eaters now. He didn't know why they'd attacked his mother or even leave her alive, but they'd no doubt keep up the attempt. Whoever did it in the first place would pay.

His mind wandered back to Harry. He absolutely thought of Draco as only a friend if his little speech to the Weasleys was any clue. Harry would never want to be with him.

Draco imitated Harry waving his hand around. 'Like _that_.' What the hell?

Gods, who was he kidding? Draco pulled the pillow over his face and yelled into it. Malfoys never showed emotion, but this was the first Malfoy in love with Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry bounded up the steps to the second floor. He noticed the door across from his – _'Draco's room,'_ he realized – was shut still. It would probably stay like that for the rest of summer. Harry rolled his eyes, thinking of the blond on the other side of the door. Avoiding Ron and Hermione at all costs, all right, coming out to talk to him like that.

He entered his room and sat down on the bed, flopping onto his back. His hand groped the nightstand blindly before finding his wand. He bought it towards him, absentmindedly playing with it, twirling the wand in his fingers. Harry hated leaving his wand anywhere.

Was Draco really mad? If he was, Harry figured it was because he'd been interrupted and not paid attention to down in the hall.

Harry's head was beginning to pound as it whirled with thoughts of Draco Malfoy. The boy, who'd done nothing but give him hell for the last five years, and the son of one of Voldemort's right-hand Death Eaters at that, had joked with him just a few moments before. He wanted to fight for the side of light. He also didn't say anything really antagonizing to Harry. In fact, he seemed to almost care about Harry. _'Weird.'_

Weirder yet, Harry was sure Ron would have come running in by now. Or he'd have at least popped his head in to check on him. Maybe he didn't want to anger Harry again.

Harry flipped his wand into the air and caught it around the middle. He certainly seemed less inclined to bite Malfoy's head off than Ron's or even Hermione's. He really couldn't figure it out. He might as well stop trying. Hopefully they wouldn't set him off again, and he'd be able to apologize.

A colder voice emerged from the depths of his mind, _why should _you_ apologize though? They were being bloody insensitive, talking about your hated professor, your personal problems…_

_'They're my best friends,'_ he answered the voice.

_Best friends who don't even care enough to check up on you? _The voice whispered slyly.

_'…They're just giving me space.'_ Harry thought back after hesitating. He didn't actually know. Giving him space was what seemed most likely. What if they _didn't_ care? They could just be pretending to care because he was Harry Potter the Magical Boy-Who-Lived. Did they pity him? Were they already getting sick of putting up with him? Would they wait until he failed the prophecy then move on with their lives?

The repulsively sly voice inside his head offered no other argument, only a small chuckle of victory. When nothing else came from it, Harry shook his head to free it from the mass of thoughts. He really wasn't thinking clearly. Ron and Hermione would never do that to him. _'What kind of a stupid git am I, believing my friends are so fake?'_

Harry ran his free hand through his still unbrushed and extremely unruly, black hair. He could really use Sirius or Lupin about now, to give him advice, or to listen to him. Or even just sit with him. Too late, Harry realized he had included Sirius, and the image of him falling behind the dreaded veil flashed in his memory again. The burning sensation in the corner of his eyes returned. They'd tapered off when he had talked been to Malfoy, but now… now he was alone.

Harry sat up as suddenly as he realized this. He yanked open his trunk at the foot of the bed, rummaging around through it until he got to his school things. Finding what he wanted, he pulled the textbook out of the mess inside. Inside the book lay a piece of parchment with half an essay written on it for Charms. He scooped a slightly weathered quill and bottle of black ink out of the trunk also, carrying them over to the desk. He'd do his damn homework meanwhile – anything to get his mind off those depressing thoughts.

* * *

After a few hours, dinner was prepared and the table was full of people. Besides Harry and the twins, Ron and Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks were also there. Tonks's hair was spiked and blue tonight. She sat between Ginny and Hermione, while Ron was on the other side of Hermione. Across from him were Fred, George and Harry. Mrs. Weasley and Moody sat at the table ends.

Harry had done his best to do his homework, actually getting a lot of it done as he vehemently refused to think of anything but for a long while. However, as the minutes stretched into hours, and there was no sign of Ron to dredge him away from it, he ended up thinking about it all even more. Luckily, the twins interrupted the confused and bitter thoughts by announcing dinner was ready.

Currently, Mrs. Weasley was ignoring the twins, who had their heads bent together as they whispered. Harry knew they were watching for Ron to eat or do something or other, for one of their jokes. He wondered idly what they've been developing this time again.

Moody was talking to Tonks in undertones, but Harry couldn't really look either of them in the face. Tonks had seen Harry at his worst at the Dursleys', and he could feel Moody's magic eye on him, studying him. He was quite used to Moody's appearance, with scars, the eye, and the chunk of nose missing, but it never changed the way he felt when being studied by the bright magic eye, like it could see right through him.

The seat next to him was empty. Draco was still up in his room then. This thought made Harry look over at Ron and Hermione, down at the other end of the table. That didn't suppress his early apprehensions either. They weren't even sitting with him.

Ginny looked almost as lonely as Harry did. Ginny had grown more into her figure, developing more girlish curves. Her eyes kept moving from Ron and Hermione to him. He caught her brown eyes and smiled, which she returned.

She rolled her eyes at the two on the other side of Tonks and grinned at him. They were oblivious to the whole table, whispering to each other like Fred and George were. Oblivious to Harry.

Suddenly the food in front of him seemed less appealing. He poked at it a bit with his fork when Mrs. Weasley glanced at him. Catching Ginny's eyes again, he pointedly looked to the empty chair next to him, nodded up to the ceiling then shrugged his shoulders to ask about Malfoy. Ginny shook her head slightly then tilted her head towards Ron. Then she motioned down with her head to the table. Harry followed the look and saw her touch her place, which he saw had another underneath it.

Of course Draco wouldn't willingly eat with them. Harry rolled his eyes at her, causing her to giggle out loud. Not that anyone noticed it, as caught up in their own conversations and food as they were.

The sound of a door opening and closing signaled the arrival of an Order member. Harry moved his gaze over to the door as Lupin stuck his head in. His graying light brown hair was hanging around his tired face. His suit, also a light brown, complete with the usual patches, appeared worn as if he had been busy all day.

"Remus! Come in and have some food, you're just in time." Mrs. Weasley prompted.

"Ah, thanks, Molly." Lupin took the seat next to Harry and grinned at him. "Hey Harry."

"Hey Moony." He grinned back.

"Hey Rem." Tonks spoke up from next to Ginny.

"Nymph." Lupin acknowledged, still grinning.

Tonks scowled, shaking her fist at him mockingly. "Bugger. It's Tonks!"

"It's Remus." She rolled her eyes and went back to eating.

Hermione gasped, drawing Harry's attention, along with everyone else's to her and Ron. Fred and George suddenly burst out laughing next to Harry, dragging in Tonks and Ginny as soon as they saw what had them in stitches. Moody and Mrs. Weasley frowned, even though Moody's human eye showed amusement. Remus appeared surprised and Harry looked back at Ron, watching as his nose changed shape, growing into a familiar hooked nose not unlike the one of his least favorite professor. Ron's red Weasley hair had already lengthened, turning black and greasy.

Ron looked over at Hermione alarmed, with his hand over his changing nose. As the twins continued laughing, he whipped his head over to stare at them suspiciously. "What did you do?" He squeaked, now fully glaring over his hand.

Moody spoke up, "Snape would look good with blue eyes." He cracked a smile that made his face appear more frightening. The twins quieted down, adopting innocent looks.

"Whatever do you mean, Ronniekins?" Fred smiled.

"What did you do to me!?" Ron's other hand began feeling his hair, after he saw Hermione looking at it.

"What did you do to your brother, you two?" Mrs. Weasley finally spoke up.

"We didn't do anything! We can't help it if he suddenly wants to…" Off his mother's death glare, George grinned and answered truthfully, catching Harry's eye, "Snape Snoovles. They dissolve in drinks. It only lasts – " George glanced at Fred.

"--Half an hour." Fred answered.

"HALF AN HOUR??" Ron jumped up from the table and left the room quickly, presumably going to his own room. Hermione glared at the twins before following after him, flashing a brief apologetic look to Mrs. Weasley.

Harry ate a bit more as everyone stared after the two while Mrs. Weasley chastised the twins for pranking their brother. Tonks turned to look at him as if questioning if he would go after them. He waved his free hand and shrugged. It really was his problem. They hadn't come looking for him at all when he was in his room, doing homework, and not sitting with him at the table just added to the whole thing.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his bed a little later that night with Lupin next to him. He was once again playing with his wand instead of looking at Lupin.

"What's on your mind, Harry?" Harry stopped twirling his wand.

"…Ron and Hermione, among others."

"What about them?" Lupin turned towards Harry attentively.

He frowned slightly, "I don't know. It's just… They didn't sit with me at dinner."

Lupin smiled at Harry's down turned face, not laughing out loud because he knew Harry had more on his mind than mere seating arrangements. He simply waited for him to continue.

Harry sighed. "I don't know if I should tell them…" His eyes met the werewolf's. "About the prophecy."

Hm. "Go on, Dumbledore told me about it."

His eyes went back to the wand in his lap. "I mean, I've been fearing that they'd move on, because they don't want a friend who has to... kill or be killed. But then they felt it would be bad for them to drop off before it's happened because it would put them in bad light. So they're just waiting for it so _then_ they can leave me. Waiting for me to fail and die so they can have happy lives. I've put them in danger every year I've known them, and it's only increasingly worse as it goes on. And I'm afraid if they find out about it, or the truce today…" Harry let it all spill out of him, burying his face in his hands as he trailed off.

Lupin took all this in. Harry was afraid they didn't want to be his friend. "What truce?"

He ran both hands up through his messy black hair as he answered, "That's another thing on my mind. Do you know Draco Malfoy is staying here?" He didn't wait for Lupin to reply him before continuing. "He is. I don't know why yet, but he is. He came outside today and had a halfway decent conversation with me – "

"Alone?" Lupin interrupted. "You spoke to a Malfoy alone, knowing his father is a Death Eater?"

"Think about it Moony, would Dumbledore let a Death Eater stay here? He wants to fight with us. He doesn't want to serve Voldemort or his father anymore. So I accepted his white flag. I certainly don't need to see him as an enemy anymore. I have only two enemies: Voldemort and his Death Eaters." Harry flopped back onto the bed.

"So why wouldn't Hermione and Ron see it like you do?" Lupin asked reasonably. Harry's movements meant he was getting restless.

"There's the problem. It's like stabbing their backs, dealing with the enemy. And it's really screwed up because we've been against each other for five years, and he's called Hermione Mudblood so many times, and made fun of Ron in every way possible. I don't know. I've had thoughts about Malfoy before this, and a truce, so it's not like it's not been coming for a while."

Lupin looked down at his best friend's son while hearing him pour his heart out. So much, for one person barely of age.

"Well… here's my thoughts Harry. You should tread carefully around Malfoy, no matter what. Even if he's on our side, he still might be watched. And it's good to start gaining allies somewhere, especially between Houses. I think you're right, about all of what you are saying about Voldemort. He's your main enemy. But I do not believe you will fail, Harry." Lupin smiled down at the troubled boy. "You are a truly gifted wizard, and very powerful. Ron and Hermione know this. They wouldn't desert you, now or ever. You three make quite the team, very much like your father, Sirius and I did. They're in this together with you, Harry. If you don't want to worry them about the prophecy, you don't have to tell them, okay?"

Harry hesitated before nodding. _'If we're in this together, what are they keeping from me?'_ The thought flashed through his head, causing him to shake it away mentally. Lupin was right of course. But as much as it helped quell his small fears, he couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy still.

"Kinda silly of me to think that, huh?" He bit his lip nervously. Footsteps creaked along outside his door as someone passed through the hall. The corners of his mouth turned up weakly as he saw Lupin was still smiling.

"Not at all, Harry. You're just being cautious, with good reason, considering how life's been for you. It's a lot to take on. When did you think about all of this, anyway?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Mostly the beginning of summer, and when I was supposed to be doing homework earlier today."

"What a great first day you've had." Lupin laughed.

* * *

_Harry was walking down the darkened corridor, brushing his hand blindly along the wall to lead the way. He knew he was close to it. Soon, he saw light, from an opened doorway._

_The hall led straight into the amphitheater-like room with the dais, eerily lit by crudely made white candles. Sirius was standing in the center, smiling towards Harry. He looked much like he had during Christmas, smiling like when everyone had been at Grimmauld. Harry wanted to grin back, but the presence of others in the room stopped him. Cedric Diggory was sitting on one of the steps to the left of the dais with the Ministry woman, Bertha Jorkins, both looking at Harry. Harry's parents were on the other side, closer to Sirius, smiling towards him, alive and well. Ron and Hermione were huddled together at the front of the dais, smiling and beckoning him._

_Next to Harry however, was the man who took them all away. Lord Voldemort stood erect, his arm, cloaked in black material, draped around Harry's shoulders. Harry could not pull away, as he so wanted to, nor tear his eyes from Voldemort's cold red eyes. The slits of pupils were focused not on him, but on the people around the dais._

_"Harry," He whispered in his cold voice, looking down to the boy. "You will choose whom is to die first this time."_

* * *

**  
A/N:** Fourth chap! This one was hard to write, and it took a while. I cut off ch4 from where I intended, just to have the usual lame cliff. So I've already started ch5. I'm trying to keep notes and comments to a minimum… it takes up words. So I just want to say -thank you-, I really appreciate all the input and feedback! Hint: Ten reviews per chap is my goal. 


	5. Forbidden Doors

**Recap:** _"Harry," He whispered in his cold voice, looking down to the boy. "You will choose whom is to die first this time."_

* * *

**Mad About You   
****Chapter Five - Forbidden Doors   
**Grimmauld Place 

"Harry… _Harry…_" A voice whispered fiercely close to his head. An ice-cold hand was clamped around his bare shoulder, shaking him awake. It wasn't the only thing to wake him though: searing hot pain bursting from the scar on his sweating forehead also brought him into consciousness. Harry stopped thrashing around, ending up curled in a fetal position towards the other presence in the room. It felt familiar to him, as if he could sense knowing the person and that calmed him down a little.

"Siri-?" Harry whispered, fighting to regain his bearings.

Harry winced as another wave shot through his body, resonating in the gaping hole in his heart. The latest dream had been much worse than reliving his memories, freshly tearing at his frantically beating heart with sharpened claws.

The cold hand on his shoulder pressed against his cheek before moving to his forehead. Harry instantly drew in a shaky breath at the touch, keeping his eyes shut. Not only did the pain and burning drop down to an ache he could function with, but it was also the first time he willingly let someone touch his scar from Voldemort. The person also took a sharp intake of air.

The hand made to withdraw when he took another breath. Hurriedly, Harry covered it with his own, clutching the coolness to his forehead. "P-Please…" He loosened his grip when he felt the bed shift as a weight settled next to him. The person leaned over Harry, pressing their other hand against his cheek again. The burning was completely gone now as the coldness of the hands cooled his skin Harry opened his eyes to stare into the concerned, grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Har – "

"Harry?" Ron's voice came from outside, muffled by the door.

Draco's eyes widened as a look of panic crossed his face. Harry quickly imagined what he knew would happen if the door opened and Ron found Draco Malfoy leaning over him. Harry wound his arm around Malfoy's slender waist and hauled him over his body into the space next to him on the bed, away from the door. From there, Draco rolled over the edge, falling onto the floor with a thump.

The door handle jiggled as Ron went to open it, after hearing the sound. Harry lied frozen on the bed, feeling Draco slide underneath it.

As the door swung open, Harry pushed the blanket more over the edge closest to the door, making sure it touched the floor and hid Draco.

A bleary-eyed Ron stared at Harry from the doorway. Adopting a sleepy look, Harry met his gaze, though his heart was pounding.

"Ron? What do you want?"

"Oh, no–othing." Ron yawned. "Breakfast is ready though. What was that noise before?"

"You startled me and I hit the dresser with my hand." Harry came up with. Ron didn't look convinced, but he started talking about breakfast again.

Draco slumped under the bed, thankful that Ron didn't seem to notice him in the least as he prattled on about glorious food to Harry, above him. Thoughts whirled in his head about what happened seconds before. He'd been sneaking out of the bathroom when he'd first heard it – murmurs and low moans coming from Harry's room. Curious, he'd come in to check what was going on. Merlin was he relieved seeing Harry alone in bed. Draco didn't have time to dwell on that feeling for long, since Harry started thrashing around. Harry had said something before Draco touched him, then covered his hand with his own. _'Damn that Weasel for interrupting us.'_

Above, Harry was thinking similar thoughts, not paying attention to the redhead speaking. Ron had to come barging in his room, at that exact moment before Draco could even say a word. Draco, who had leaned over him and touched his face carefully, concerned. At least, Harry thought he was concerned. Why else would he do that? And his hands were so cold and soothing… his skin was soft, too. Harry wondered for a split second how much more of Draco's skin was just as soft. _'The fuck? Why am I thinking about this?' _Harry thought.

"Harry?" A voice broke in.

"Whaat did you say?" Harry bit his lip. "Sorry, I'm still sleepy." He'd forgotten Ron was still in the doorway.

"Oh, I asked if you were coming.."

"What??" Harry asked, his eyes widening.

"To breakfast, mate. Is something wrong? You look a little off." Fully concerned now, Ron narrowed his light blue eyes at Harry's face, studying him. "Have you.. eh.. Have you been crying…?"

Harry brought his hand up to his face, feeling his wet lashes. Damn… he had been. He didn't even notice. Had Draco seen it? Shit.. Draco was underneath him right now, hearing the whole thing.

"No.. I'm fine. You go on to breakfast without me, I think I'm gonna sleep a bit more, Ron." Harry said. He felt a little guilty, but enough was enough and Ron needed to go away.

He frowned instead. "You really shouldn't skive off breakfast Harry. You need to eat – you're skin and bones! You can't go around like that for long or you'd disappear. Come down and eat."

The comment got under Harry's skin before Ron had even finished saying it. _'How dare you… you have no idea what went on at the Dursleys'. What goes on.'_ The unchecked anger rose quickly and his hand balled into a fist, clenching around the blanket.

"I'll get something when I go downstairs, alright mother?" Harry said sardonically, his voice low as he tried to reign in his anger. Ron looked like he'd been slapped in the face, his ears turning red the same way as when he was mad, embarrassed or being made fun of. It gave Harry a small amount of satisfaction, seeing it, but on the other hand, he felt guilty because it brought up a brief image of his parents from his dream. Remembering the dream, he thought briefly of Ron's face as Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse.

"What – Harry?" Ron asked, as if he couldn't believe Harry would say such a thing. _Oh, but you did… Good job._ The unfavorable voice from before chuckled. It was gone just as soon as it had emerged, but it left Harry feeling more satisfaction.

"Said what I said. Hurry up now, those dreamy sausages must be getting cold."

Ron turned to go, hearing his words. Before closing the door, he opened his mouth. "…Fine, be this way, Harry. I know Hermione said I shouldn't say anything, but it's done with. Nothing's bringing him back, and pushing us away won't help one fucking bit." With that, the door clicked firmly shut.

"How fricking insightful of you both." Harry whispered, turning over onto his back and staring mournfully at the ceiling. His and Ron's words brought back more images from the dream of the last person to be killed. The hole in his chest flooded with sadness at thoughts of Sirius, adding to the aching of his forehead.

He quietly untangled himself from the sheets and sat up, angrily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears. He touched his throbbing forehead and breathed deeply for a second to calm down.

"You could have fooled me as an actual Slytherin just then, Harry."

Harry leaned over the edge of the bed, staring as Draco's head appeared from under it. "Sorry about that." He said, ignoring the blond's comment.

"What for? I love hearing the Weasel being told off, especially by you. It should happen more often. I just wish I could have seen the look on his face as he heard it. Of course, unless you're apologizing for tossing me _over your bed_…" Draco glared up at him.

"Okay.. I was apologizing for that, but I didn't toss you over the bed. I tossed you next to me. You're the one who crawled over." Harry explained. Draco noticed any anger he heard or felt from the boy while the other had been present was gone, for the most part.

"What, you would have rather he found us both on the bed, or would you have kicked me off?" Draco's glare turned into a playful smirk as he imagined what the Weasel would have done, finding Harry with him in bed.

"Actually, I was going to hide you under the covers. But I like your way just fine." Harry smirked back.

Draco paused, thinking about being under Harry's blanket, close to his body. He knew as a fact from earlier Harry slept shirtless, so what else did Harry sleep in? Draco hoped he didn't wear pajama bottoms. _'Hmm..nice..' _He'd have to save those thoughts for later.

Draco slid out from underneath the bed, not saying a word. Harry leaned back over the edge so he pulled himself up onto the bed next to the Gryffindor. Harry gingerly pressed his forehead into his hands again, causing the blond to somber somewhat. He remembered why he was in Harry's room in the first place. Motioning to Harry's forehead, he asked, "Are you… Does it still hurt?"

Harry glanced at Draco again, but once again, there was no mocking in his eyes. Only concern. Why the hell was Malfoy so concerned all of a sudden?

"Yeah, but it's not anything I've not dealt with before – "

Draco tentatively pulled Harry's hands away from his head, his eyes trained on what he was doing rather than looking directly at Harry. He then touched the lightning scar, so softly Harry might not have known he was doing it if he hadn't been watching.

The blond's fingers ghosted across his skin, sending tingles spreading out in their wake. Harry closed his eyes, taking the time given to think about the dream that had caused the pain, as Malfoy's soft fingers eased everything away. That effing dream. He'd expected an onslaught of memories, but the new sick game had his stomach turning. Voldemort had tortured them before killing them off one by one, choosing the next when Harry refused to. As he refused, each torture gave Harry a small taste of the pain separately, growing stronger with his silence. And as hard as he'd tried, he could not move or look away. Seeing all of them die and hearing their last cries had been worse than the longest Cruciatus Voldemort had performed. Harry remembered that when Ron and Hermione's turns had come up the cold voice in his head had been present.

Jeez, what was he thinking, snapping at Ron after that dream? He knew Ron was right. He was pushing them away. But he was also wrong: Pushing them away would help by keeping them alive, because all the people around him died.

He shook his head to clear it, knocking Draco's cool hand off his forehead.

"What are you thinking?" Draco asked, looking into Harry's eyes.

"Uhm.. Nothing really."

Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Right."

"Just.. about what Ron said, and my dream. Are you always so cold?" Harry answered, quickly changing subjects, not meeting Draco's eyes. What was it about Draco Malfoy that made him share everything?

Draco gazed at him thoughtfully. "You're hot."

Harry's eyes snapped to his. "What??"

Draco smirked. "You're hot, Harry… as in warm. You're so innocent – don't think I didn't catch it when the Weasel asked if you were going down to breakfast."

Harry's cheeks heated up and he glanced at Draco's hands, lying in his lap. The blush caused Draco's smirk to deepen. Harry didn't respond, he just moved off the bed, hastily grabbing a pair of jeans and struggled to put them on with his back turned.

Draco let his eyes roam over Harry's backside. He was right at least – Harry slept in boxers, navy blue ones to be exact. Cotton. It was a rather delicious sight, seeing Harry's pale, lightly muscled back… disappearing under the low-riding dark blue material. Any color, Draco expected, would complement well with the pitch black of Harry's hair. Draco imagined running his hands through that same inky hair and touching every inch of his smooth skin. He could see Harry shiver and gasp in his mind, just for him, arching his back into Draco's touch. He thought about Harry's green eyes, how they'd widen, glinting with arousal and desire, his soft pink lips opening into a silent "O" just as he…

"Draaaco… What the heck are you looking at?" Those same green eyes, full of curiosity, appeared right in front of him, the dark haired boy waving a hand at his face, still shirtless. Jeans now covered his boxers, but it didn't make it any less alluring.

Draco visibly jumped, not only at being startled from Harry appearing in front of him, but because it _really_ sounded almost as if Harry had moaned his name. Had he imagined that also?

"Nothing." Draco looked coolly into his eyes, Harry not looking convinced. He actually seemed amused. Draco pushed away the Gryffindor's waving hand and ran his own through his perfect blond hair, mussing it slightly. _'I'm going soft or something.'_

Harry spoke, making Draco realize he'd spoken aloud. "Soft about what? You don't _always_ have to play a pompous git y'know. This side's much more interesting anyway."

Draco quickly covered his embarrassment at being caught and at Harry's unconscious innuendo. "Only you, Harry Potter." He said, speaking softly.

Harry, taken aback by the use of his full name, raised an eyebrow to Draco. "Only me?"

Draco flopped back on the bed, accomplishing even this while looking graceful. "Yes only you. Only you would find that interesting. Only you can get under my skin and infuriate me within a heartbeat. Only you can beat me at Quidditch. Only you can do all the things you've done. Only you…" _'Only you can make my heart beat faster, take my breath away, and break down all my walls with just one glance. Yes, Harry, only you.'_

Harry didn't quite know what to say. "Huh. If it helps, you've always presented a challenge." He turned, automatically pulling a random t-shirt out of the armoire, yanking it over his head. The shirt, Draco noticed, was one of the many plus sizes Harry had, and also a dark blue.

He wondered for a moment about that before opening his mouth. "Why the plus sizes, Harry?"

Harry glanced down at his shirt then back to Draco. "Cousin's hand-me-downs. It's what I get." He shrugged, walking back to the bed Draco was on, taking his glasses up from the nightstand and sliding them onto his nose.

Draco made a face at the glasses.

"I can actually see you now when you do that, I'll have you know."

Draco's face slacked into its normal mask. Harry looked at him strangely. Draco's eyes moved past him to the doorway. Harry whirled and saw what Draco put the mask on for: the door was opening.

Ginny poked her head in.

"Oi, Malfoy? Sorry Harry." He motioned her into his room.

"Hey Ginny." Next to him, Draco sat up and nodded. She slipped in holding a small tray of food, which she set on Draco's lap.

"Ah, I can't stay. Mum's asked me to… er… uhm…" Ginny trailed off, glancing nervously at Harry. He sat down on the bed, his stomach twisting at the smell of food.

"Asked you to what?" Draco pressed on, eyeing the tray.

She looked away from Harry before answering him. "Help Kreacher clean the kitchen. She's busy talking to Tonks."

Harry looked at the young Gryffindor avoiding his eyes. Kreacher. That… goddamned House-elf. Instead of flying down the stairs to see the demented old thing himself and cause it lots of pain, he willed his face to show no emotion. Ginny didn't need his crap anyway as she was just the messenger.

_'Don't kill the messenger.'_ Harry thought to himself wryly. "Okay."

The redhead in the room seemed surprised by the response. "Uhm… Ron's downstairs with Hermione, Harry. Are you gonna go down and eat with them?"

"No." He shook his head twice, emphasizing his point. He didn't want to face them right now, nor be in the same vicinity as Kreacher. Not yet.

"Want me to bring you something?"

Again he shook his head, "No thanks, Gin." The use of his nickname for her seemed to relieve her somewhat, telling her he wasn't angry. She backed off, shutting the door behind her.

A jam-covered piece of toast dropped into his lap as the door clicked. Harry looked to the blond next to him in question.

"Eat." He commanded in answer, already digging into his eggs now that Ginny was gone. He'd been quiet through their whole conversation.

Harry frowned at the toast. The blond placed a sausage on top of it, causing his frown to deepen further. "I'll continue." He threatened lightheartedly.

Harry picked up the meat and tore a bite out of it, glaring at Draco. Draco smirked in response, "Good boy."

The Slytherin shared his breakfast with the Gryffindor, neither speaking until the food was gone.

"Feel better, Savior?" Draco asked. "You've got quite the explaining to do."

"A bit, Princess." Harry shot back, using the twins' new nickname for Draco. "Explaining for?"

"All of it. Don't call me that." Draco began ticking off fingers. "Your nightmare, the scar, you, Granger and the Weasel, your reaction to Ginny and Kreacher cleaning, and eating. And this place if you don't mind. It's annoying me not knowing what the hell this place is. Start from the top." He looked at Harry expectantly.

Inside as well as out, Harry groaned. "All of it?"

"Indulge me, Harry." He purred. Sadly, for Draco, Harry's mind was too occupied to catch his double meaning.

"Fine… but remember you asked for it. My nightmare and scar are tied together. The scar linked me to Voldemort. It's why I can speak Parseltongue. Occasionally, I can also see through him – visions of some sort. Last year, he realized he could use the link to send me fake visions," He stalled, seeing Sirius being _Crucio_-ed in the Hall of Prophecies, row 97… Draco was watching his face now with the strange concerned look in his eyes, though the blank expression was in place. Harry continued. "Which is where the nightmare comes in. Voldemort sends me dreams, or I'll have a vision about what he's doing. The scar burns when he's doing something or when something happens in a dream. This dream he.. killed everyone in front of me like a fucking game, and I felt it all."

Now concern was written all over Draco's face. Harry pushed on. "I don't really know where to start about Hermione and Ron. All their letters this summer and now being here… they're hiding something from me. And you probably think it's all childish, but it still sucks. Before I was thinking y'know, maybe they'd be better off if we just weren't friends. They wouldn't be dragged into all of this Voldemort stuff, they wouldn't have to worry about me, and they… it would just be easier for them. And it's started I guess. They're ignoring me. They didn't sit with me for dinner last night. It might all be because every time I'm near them, I explode, but they say such… all they're doing right now is pissing me off. And the funny thing? My best friends nag about how I look and I get angry, but when my ex-enemy does the same, I don't. Some weird fricking world, right?" Harry sighed. Draco took all this in.

"You know… I'm a bit flattered about that." Draco really was. The Golden Boy was sharing his feelings and thoughts with him – while a bit scary – it made him feel a little closer to being Harry's friend. After all, Granger and Weasel were the ones he usually shared with. _'And now it's like he's all mine.'_ Draco thought, a little gleeful. _'What I've always wanted.'_ Draco pressed on. "And Ginny, the eating and the house?"

Harry shut his eyes and answered, halting every other word. "I have a bad history with Kreacher, it's nothing against Ginny, she's like a sister."

"She said the same about you." Draco cut in. "But continue about Kreacher."

"Kreacher's a House-elf here. Last year… I got a fake vision from Voldemort, about the Department of Mysteries. Hermione made me check before rushing off to save the day. Kreacher, on orders from.. someone else, made it seem like he was the only one here. He lied to me, I went off, and the person I loved the most ended up dead because I have a 'saving-people thing' as Hermione would say. Voldemort called it a hero complex. He died because I was bloody stupid. On top of that, everyone who went with me was injured." Harry smiled sadly, looking away as a tear slid down his cheek. "That's what Ron was saying, about how 'he' couldn't be saved."

The person Harry loved most? A frown crossed Draco's face. He'd have to think about that later. "It's… not your fault. You couldn't have known the vision was fake. And Weasel's a git for mentioning it anyway, Harry."

Harry sighed again. "Thanks, Draco."

"I meant it. And don't get used to it either – besides the Weasel's a git thing. I'll never tire of saying that."

Harry grinned. "One day maybe."

"No way." Draco looked scandalized. "I'm surprised you haven't told me off for calling him Weasel."

"He calls you Ferret." He shrugged causing Draco to grimace at the name.

"Anyway… eating? I don't know. I skipped meals the beginning of summer I guess. I was hung up about.. him. Then I was punished, came here, and the whole frickin' place reminds me of him, it's just hard to. Facing all those people down there, looking at me, sharing looks, watching what they say… I hate it. I just… I don't know. I haven't thought all that much about it. As for what this place is," Harry wrung his hands in his lap. "This is the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The house is… was my godfather's; also known as Black Manor, home to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. And it's getting blacker every day." Harry smiled, remembering how Sirius had said that in response to Kreacher last year, before showing him the tapestry of the family tree.

"Black… Sirius Black?" Draco asked, connecting name to person, from what little he'd heard from his father. "Black is your godfather?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Shit, Harry… I'm sorry." Draco apologized sincerely. He'd known Harry was in contact with the convict – Merlin knows why though – but he had not expected that.

Harry shook his head. "'Salright." He recognized the full meaning of Draco apologizing – Malfoys never did such… trivial things that were beneath them. If Draco was apologizing, he meant it. Harry stood in the middle of his room, lost in thought.

Harry's eyes moved to the closed door. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Draco's confidence dropped and his heart quickly began putting up its icy defense. "Alright, if you want to be alone." He stood and made his way to the door, past Harry.

Harry's hand on his arm halted any further movement. _'Let go, let go, let me just get out of here before I do anything stupid.'_ Draco thought.

"I meant with me." Harry let go of Draco's arm.

Draco stood unsure for a second, watching Harry bite his lip. It was adorable really, with his hair all mussed and his bright eyes.

"Where's there to go? I'm under the impression you can't really go anywhere."

"Not outside, but I'm sure this house has _some_ interesting rooms." Harry shrugged. "Come on, explore with me. I never had much chance to last time, and I doubt you'll find Ron snooping in the rooms if there's spiders."

How could he refuse?

When Draco nodded Harry grinned and ducked out of the room, leaving the Slytherin alone. He stood, waiting for Harry to enter the room again. Why'd he leave?

Draco sighed while looking around the room. It was furnished similar to his, but it had no real personal touches of he boy he'd fought for five years. His trunk was near the bed and clothes were sitting on top from when he'd seen Harry change, and a few books were set out on the desk, but no pictures were out. Harry had to have pictures of some sort – that Creevey kid had taken enough pictures of Hero Boy to last everyone lifetimes.

A scowl crossed Draco's face at the thought of the young Gryffindor fan. The stupid kid grated his nerved every time he even opened his mouth to say "Hiya Harry!" And that was the face Harry saw when he peeked his head back in.

"It's a room, Draco. Come on, they're still in the kitchen."

Draco followed Harry out of the room and they both snuck up another stairway. They walked by a few closed doors, simply trying to get farther from the kitchen.

The first room past the girls' bedroom held nothing of interest. It looked like a spare room, with no portraits. Harry dismissed it quickly, continuing down the hall. _'Where is he taking me?'_ Draco idly thought, before moving on also. It was only a few seconds before he noticed Harry had walked right past a wooden black door with strange symbols around the frames. A door he could have sworn he'd seen before. Had they somehow gotten turned around?

"Harry," Draco got his attention and waited until he looked back at him. He motioned to the door. "What's in this room?"

Harry looked where he was pointing to the door, confusion and surprise registering in his eyes. He took a step towards the door, cautiously.

"I don't know. Did it just appear?"

"You walked right by it, then I noticed." Draco answered. "Should we open it?"

Harry looked uncertain.. Images of all the forbidden doors he'd opened in the past circled around his mind as he stared at the mysterious door. There was no visible door handle.

"How?" He wondered if the Order knew about the door. Maybe it was like the Room of Requirement, appearing to those in need?

Draco reached out a hand and, before Harry could stop him, touched the door with his outstretched fingertips.

**

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**

**A/N: **Yes! Fifth Chapter! I apologize for it taking so long to post (I did say ten reviews for ch4)... The next one might take even longer to get out though, since I don't have so much pre-written. -Ducks the flying books and sharp objects- Thank you muchly for the reviews you guys! They brighten my sad days.


	6. None of Your Business

**Recap:** Draco reached out a hand and, before Harry could stop him, touched the door with his outstretched fingertips.

**Posted:** 1-31-05

* * *

**Mad About You  
****Chapter Six – None of Your Business  
**Grimmauld Place

Harry watched as Draco's pale fingers moved down the contrasting black grain of the door. Energy rippled across it like a barrier of some sort, moving from the center outward toward the marked frame.

Draco seemed entranced with the door, standing still next to the brunette, not removing his hand. Instead he pressed his palm flat against the wood and barrier, sending ripples continuously to the frames.

"Hey – "

Harry reached his own hand out, clamping it around Draco's wrist, about to pull it away from the door. The ripples took on a red sheen. A cranking sound startled Harry as the door slid back into the wall on the left side of its frame, revealing a dark room to the boys.

Harry stared into the room, the negative-like picture appearing in his head, flashes of the door in his dream. Movement snapped him back to reality: Draco had taken a step towards the doorway. Harry's hand moved up and stayed fastened around Draco's forearm.

"What are you doing?" The words sounded strangled to his ears, which were filled by a dull roar. Was Draco actually going into the room that had appeared out of nowhere?

"Finding out what's in the room. Don't tell me you're scared – you've entered a room before." Draco said, smirking at Harry. Harry's hand was warm on his arm.

"It wasn't there before. What if you go in and it disappears for ten years? Where will we be then?" Harry argued. All he could see was the door from his dream.

"Don't be such a girl, Harry. Do you want me to hold your hand?" _'Please say YES!'_

"You're the princess, Draco." He growled, letting go of Draco's arm stiffly.

"So shall you lead, or shall I?" Draco taunted. Why was he pushing Harry's buttons right now? The fire had lit up in Harry's green eyes, burning into Draco. Merlin, he loved Harry's fire.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but someone stomping up the stairs, so close to them, interrupted him. Several someones. Harry closed his eyes. _'Why me?'_ He pushed the blond Slytherin into the dark room without another word.

As Harry followed Draco into the dark room, the magical door slid shut behind them. Harry strained to hear anything from the hallway, pressing his ear to the door. Draco moved closer in front of him, placing a hand next to his head on the door.

"Where do you get off shoving me in here?" He whispered. They were enshrouded in darkness, and the only way Harry could tell Draco was so close was by feeling his breath on his cheek.

"Be quiet." He shushed him. They were going to get caught if Draco kept talking.

"What do you-" Harry clamped his hand around Draco's mouth, silencing him. Draco, feeling his hand, pressed into Harry and held his breath. It could be one of the few times they'd ever be this close so Draco took what he could get.

Harry found it hard to concentrate on what was happening with Draco against him. He initially inhaled sharply at the contact and was getting lightheaded with the blond's intoxicating vanilla and spice scent. He could feel his heart beating quickly in rhythm with his own.

A loud sound came from right outside the door they were leaning against, breaking into Harry's thoughts. He held his breath until the sound faded, his heartbeat loud in his ears. _'That was close.'_ He thought, letting go of Draco. The Slytherin stayed where he was, still stuck on the thought _'I could kiss him right now, quickly.'_

When Draco didn't move away, Harry whispered to him, "D-Draco? _Lumos_." His wand lit at their sides, casting their faces in shadows as it brightened the room.

Draco gave Harry a fake glare. "I was three seconds from biting your hand, I'll have you know."

Harry was about to respond when the door behind him slid back into the wall, causing him to fall backwards. Draco, who had been leaning against him, fell on top of Harry out in the hall, their limbs all tangled.

"_Oomph!_" The air rushed out of him at the hard impact and it took a second to realize exactly what had happened.

"Why in Morrigan's bleeding name is FERRET on top of Harry!" A voice screeched from above, turning Harry's stomach to lead. "What are you doing?"

Draco stiffened above him, gripping Harry's forearms. He brought his head up, taking a moment to look into Harry's green eyes to see the fear. He was ripped away violently by Ron who proceeded to grip the front of his shirt, shoving him against the wall. Harry sat up, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. He looked around at Tonks, Moody, and Hermione standing around him, none moving to help him up.

"How'd you get into the room, Harry?" Tonks asked, leaning against the opposite wall. Harry didn't answer her, instead getting up and moving over to where Ron and Draco were glaring at each other, a murderous glint in Ron's eyes.

"Ron, stop. Stop!" He tugged Ron's arm, "Stop it! We were just hiding from whoever was coming!"

"What is he doing here? With you!" Ron yelled, face flushed with his explosive anger.

"It's none of your business why I'm here or why I'm with him, Weasley." Draco said icily. He straightened and brushed his front off when Ron let him go with Harry's pulling.

"You-"

"Boys! Ron be quiet, there are more important things going on. I can tell you for a fact Malfoy is here on Dumbledore's order, so calm down. Harry answer Tonks' question." Moody grumbled.

Draco and Harry looked at the gnarled man. "We were just exploring. What's in that room?" He answered.

Moody thought on that for a minute, as if deciding whether or not they should have that information. "It's a safe room. Did you open it, Harry?"

The brunette glanced at Draco, wondering why it was important. "No…" Draco stepped closer to Harry away from where Ron was still seething, thinking _'If it's safe in there, let us back in!_' Harry looked to Hermione, who had not said a word, seeming a little shocked.

Tonks saw the look pass between them, quickly putting two and two together. "Right, well! Mad-eye, I think these four need to talk, and we need to see Dumbledore."

Harry spoke, "Is Dumbledore here?"

"Ah, sorry, no Harry. C'mon Mad-eye." Tonks and Moody left, Draco eyeing Moody's back distastefully. _'Probably still angry about the ferret transfiguration with the imposter.'_ Harry thought, trying to stall from the imminent talk with his best friends.

"Shall we go into the drawing room perhaps? Walls have ears." Hermione suggested. Harry looked back at her gratefully. Ron angrily, but mutely, showed his agreement by stomping down the stairs with Hermione in tow. Harry glanced at Draco, very conscious of how they were found, and how they'd been in the room.

Draco didn't really want the third degree from Weasel but he didn't want Harry to go into that alone. He finally had a taste of Harry's friendship and he wouldn't let him be easily dissuaded from him. _'He's mine, Weasel.'_ He went with Harry to the drawing room behind the sidekicks.

Harry felt like he was walking to his doom, each step closer to the drawing room getting heavier and harder to take. He'd gladly face Voldemort visions or Voldemort himself if he didn't have to explain the truce and hanging out with Malfoy to his two best friends. Especially when he found himself enjoying his company.

Inside the room, Harry threw himself down on a two-seater couch in front of where Hermione and Ron sat in another couch. Draco looked around the room tensely, not wanting to be near the angry sidekicks. He spotted a large tapestry and went over to it, studying it with interest behind Harry.

"Alright, what's going on?" Hermione asked, hands clasped in her lap. Harry glanced to Draco, unsure of how much he wanted revealed. He didn't want them to know he was there in the first place, and oddly enough, Harry respected that.

Draco spoke, still looking away from them, but feeling the brunette's eyes. "I called a truce with Potter. He knows my reasons so it's none of your business."

Ron's eyes widened and he spluttered angrily. "None of our… none of our business? Harry's _our_ best friend, of course it is!" He turned to Harry. "What possible reason could he have that you'd accept, Harry? He's tormented us for five years!" Ron stood furiously and paced during his rant. "Just last year he was with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad! He's tried getting Hagrid sacked almost yearly! And called us horrid names like the filthy little ferret he is! You two fight every time you're in the same room together! You can forgive all that in just a few days? I can't believe it!"

"Ron…" Hermione tried, stopping his pacing.

"No, Hermione, I want to know why. The stupid snake's probably got some scheme going anyway."

Harry grew almost as angry as Ron during his tirade. Didn't they trust his decisions? Weren't they his to make, anyway? _They only want to control your life, _the voice in the back of his mind hissed. _Ron doesn't want you to have any other friends._

"Ron, this is not spontaneous; I've been thinking about it for some time." He said heatedly, staring at his two friends. "And, his reasons are mine to know."

Draco leaned against the wall, observing Harry with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Harry was standing up for him, sending a warm feeling through his heart. He wanted to bust the Weasel's face in for saying all of that but the content feeling in his heart that Weasel wouldn't steal Harry away like he did in their first year took over.

"Hermione?" Ron looked helplessly at the girl beside him.

"Harry," Hermione started carefully. "You know I support you. I always will, but… I don't know exactly how – I don't know if I can accept Malfoy." She gazed at him sorrowfully.

Hearing that she supported him calmed him a little but her honesty nonetheless was still a hard blow to take. He hadn't really expected Ron to accept Malfoy anytime soon, but Hermione, who had always spoken of inter-House relations, wasn't accepting either. Harry couldn't really blame her though; he knew being called a Mudblood for five years had taken its toll.

"I understand. We're going to go, if that's all?" He made to stand up.

Hermione shook her head and looked to Draco. "If you don't mind my asking, Malfoy, what are you doing here in HQ?"

Draco sat himself down on the couch arm next to Harry, debating whether he should say anything or tell her it's none of her business. "Harry's not the only one the Dark Lord is after." He stood, looking to Harry for him to stand also.

"Harry, hm? You're all of a sudden on a first name basis?" Ron bit out, irritated still.

"Leave it, Ron, let them go." Hermione put a hand on his arm.

Inside Harry's mind as he walked out with Draco, the voice spoke again, _if they really cared, they wouldn't have let you leave. They would have wanted you to stay… they're still hiding something from you._

He shook his head slightly, gaining Draco's attention.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didn't like that situation." Harry admitted. He changed the subject. "That room… why do you suppose we could open it?"

"I don't know. They're probably not going to tell us either." Draco said as they made their way back to Harry's room. It was better than having the chance of running into Ron and Hermione anywhere. With their exploring cut short, Harry sat down on his bed. Draco uncomfortably stood near his dresser, hands in his pockets.

"Listen… I'm sorry about that. If I hadn't been in such a rush to look around, you wouldn't have been seen by them," Harry said in a rush, staring at the bed covers. "You-"

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault." Draco interrupted. The last thing the boy needed was more guilt. "Do you know what that tapestry was in the drawing room?"

Harry glanced towards him. "The..? Oh. The family tree of the Blacks. What's wrong with it?"

"I'm just curious. I've only seen those kinds of trees in my father's library."

The Gryffindor lay back on the bed. "Well, that makes sense doesn't it? You're related to the Blacks through your mother. Purebloods and all that, right?"

Draco was quiet, causing Harry to roll his head over to look at him with question.

Draco merely shook his head. "It's nothing. I must think about this some more. I'll-"

A knock on the door interrupted him. Harry looked from the blond to the door. "Yeah?"

"It's me, Ginny." Her welcome voice came in through the door muffled. Draco visibly relaxed, leaning against the dresser.

"Come on in, Gin."

The young redhead opened the door and slid inside his room, looking at both boys.

"That bubblehead found you out, huh?" She asked Draco.

"You really do have good hearing, don't you?" Harry exclaimed, surprised she'd know when she'd been in the kitchen, though Draco had told him about her hearing everything.

"Yes, but Ron's also storming around. He sounded really angry, so I take it didn't go well? He looked over at Harry, sitting on the bed with him.

"It really didn't. They opened a door behind us and we fell through, then Ron ripped him off me." Harry explained. Ginny's eyebrows shot up at his description.

"Malfoy was on you, huh?"

"Well yeah, we fell… you haven't been talking to Fred and George have you..?" Harry said slowly, suspicious about what she meant.

Ginny smiled innocently. "What would I have to talk about with Fred and George?"

Harry sighed with relief. "Nothing."

"Right.. nothing, like your princess." She burst out laughing.

Harry groaned, reaching up for his pillow which he smacked her with. He looked at Draco, who was watching the two of them with hooded eyes. He was really watching Harry because when he reached up, his shirt rode up on his stomach a few inches. His pale white skin was screaming out to Draco to be touched and caressed, kissed and worshipped. His heated gaze moved up Harry's chest to his bright eyes.

The moment Harry took his eyes away from the problem at hand to see Draco gave Ginny window enough to sneak a pillow over from the head of bed. WHACK! Harry's glasses fell off as she swung the pillow to hit the back of his head. The gaze between the two boys broke as she then continued to beat him with it mercilessly. He tried blocking the pillow but she seemed to have several handy. _'Where did all these pillows come from?'_ he had the chance to wonder briefly, before enduring another whack to the face.

"Draco!" Harry called from his curled position of protection under the bombardment of Ginny's furious pillow beating. "Don't just stand there, help me!"

Draco laughed at how pitiful Harry sounded, being beaten on by a fluffy pillow by a young girl. Nevertheless, he picked up Harry's forgotten glasses and a stray pillow, put the glasses on the dresser, and joined in on beating Harry.

"No, you traitor!" Harry gasped. In retaliation, he uncurled and swung his pillow at the two of them.

"I joined the winning side, what can I say?" Draco smirked as he blocked Harry's blow to his legs and swiped at his own. Ginny went in for a back attack, forcing Harry to fall over. He took Draco down with him with a tackle.

* * *

"Hermione, I just don't get it! He must've put a spell on him, hoodwinked him somehow. There's no bloody way possible Harry would even talk to Malfoy." Ron slammed his fist on the couch arm as if to emphasize his point.

"Ron, all I'm saying is to trust Harry. "Hermione said as she watched him pace around the drawing room again. "If Malfoy's here… it makes sense what he said."

Ron stopped and looked at the girl, baffled.

She rolled her eyes. "Malfoy's almost sixteen. He said Harry wasn't the only one Voldemort – " Ron winced at the name earning a frown from her. "is after, so he must want Malfoy to join him because like his father, Malfoy would be a good asset, if not for his intelligence, then because of his influence on the rest of the Slytherins. He'd probably be starting Death Eater training."

Ron threw her an exasperated look. "Herm, what makes you think he wouldn't join? Wait!" He pointed at the door. "What if he _is_ a Death Eater and it's all a ploy to get Harry to You-Know-Who?"

Looking to the Black Family Tree tapestry, Hermione frowned. "It's possible, but not probably. Dumbledore wouldn't be fooled by something like that." Ron sat down next to her, facing towards her.

"He was fooled by Quirrel and the imposter Moody." He pointed out.

_'Yes, he had been, but knowing he had been would he allow himself to be fooled again?'_ Hermione thought. She bit her lip in concentration.

"All I can say is we should keep an eye on them then." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him. He slung a freckled arm around her shoulders scooting closer on the couch.

A knock on the door announced Mrs. Weasley as she hustled into the room. Her weary face was gripped with excitement, as if Dumbledore had just announced Voldemort's demise.

"Hey you two, I've just received letters from the school. Come downstairs and open them up – I believe they're the O.W.L results."

She trooped them out of the room, into the hallway. As they passed by Harry's room, she knocked and relayed the same message. Harry and an extremely reluctant Malfoy joined them in the hallway, along with Ginny. All three were red-faced and breathing hard, with light grins on their faces.

Ron didn't like seeing Malfoy in Harry's room at all, especially breathless. It was just.. wrong. A scowl like no other marred his face and he stomped down the stairs.

Harry really couldn't do anything about Ron. Since when did he care whom Harry hung out with? Since he realized it wasn't him recently? Tough. That morning's comment was scratching at his mind, irritating him every time he saw the redhead.

He snuck a sad glance to Hermione who was walking with Ron, eager to see her results. What would they do after school? Hermione would perhaps carry on with S.P.E.W. or work some high up job for the Ministry. She's the most intelligent witch in their year, if not all of Hogwarts. It would be surprising if she didn't g on to do something great. Ron might go for auror or some other Ministry job. They'd work for the Ministry that ahd been so against him, because what other job was out there if you didn't work for either the Ministry, a school, or a shop?

Harry could barely see himself as an auror anymore. He couldn't see himself as anything. He could see himself up to the point where he finally faced off with Voldemort, then after that, nothing. His stomach curled at the unsettling thought. Things did not bode well for him if he couldn't even imagine surviving the final battle…

Down in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley handed out the four letters. Hermione took a deep breath and grinned nervously at Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and Ron before carefully opening the seal. Ron ripped his open, and Harry and Draco just held theirs, simply watching. Draco motioned to Ginny and Harry before going back upstairs, leaving them all to probably open his in privacy. Harry stood on the edge, waiting to hear how many O.W.L.s they received.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped at the paper. She flung her arms around Ron's neck, hugging him fiercely. He held her waist, a dopey confused look on his face.

"I got them all! All eleven classes, I got Outstandings! There's even a letter from Professor Dumbledore about a merit of achievement!" She shouted, waving the results around now, the hug momentarily forgotten, even though Ron was still a little red.

"How did you do?" She looked to him.

"Erm... well… I won't have to take Divination anymore… or Potions… eh.." Off his mother's look, Ron mended his explanation. "I got Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Defense."

"Only five?" His mother asked, an edge to her nagging tone. He shrugged weakly.

Harry dully began opening his letter, away from everyone's bickering over Ron's results. If Ron received five, he couldn't have done that badly, could he?

He opened the letter, skipping down to where the results were listed:

Astronomy: Theory: Exceeds Practical: PoorOverall: Acceptable

Care of Magical Creatures: Theory: Outstanding Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding

Charms:Theory: Exceeds Practical: Exceeds Overall: Exceeds

Defense Against Dark Arts:Theory: Outstanding Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding

Divination:Theory: Poor Practical: PoorOverall: Poor

Herbology:Theory: Exceeds Practical: Exceeds Overall: Exceeds

History of Magic:Theory: Dreadful Practical-Overall: Dreadful

Potions:Theory: Exceeds Practical: Outstanding Overall: Outstanding

Transfiguration:Theory: Acceptable Practical: Exceeds Overall: Exceeds

He stared at the results for a while. Seven O.W.L.s. He wasn't really all that concerned with Divination, but how in Merlin's name had he pulled off an Outstanding in Potions! Checking the name on the envelope, he saw it was indeed addressed to him so it wasn't a mix-up.

Seven O.W.L.s. He could go ahead with being an auror if he wanted. If he wanted…

"Harry? How'd you do?" Hermione asked. They seemed to remember his presence.

Harry looked at Hermione with a lump in his throat. Not trusting his voice, he wordlessly handed her the letter. What did he want to do with his life? _Will you have a life?_ The voice questioned.

"Oh! Harry! You can be an auror! This is wonderful!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah… wonderful." He plastered on a fake smile. Mrs. Weasley hugged him and started bustling around for a celebration. Ron patted his shoulder. Harry looked at Ginny, who grinned at him before motioning above with her head. The two of them slipped away back upstairs. Ginny pretended to gag at her mum's antics on the way.

"It's good you got the O.W.L.s you needed, Harry. Mum's gonna flip tonight in celebration. How do you think Malfoy did?" She stopped outside his door, looking curious.

"I don't know. It's not really any of my business-" He tried to protest as she dragged him in. At first, he didn't see Draco anywhere. The room – modeled like his, he noticed – was neat and appeared empty.

Ginny pulled him in farther and directed a question towards the bed. It was then he noticed the back of Malfoy's blond head peeking over the edge on the other side. _'Why is he on the floor?'_ he thought.

"How'd you do, Malfoy?" She went over to the window and looked down, while Harry stood at the door uncomfortably all of a sudden.

Draco looked up to Ginny and Harry silently listened. "Good… not as good as Granger probably." He sounded sad almost. "Good enough for a high Ministry position like my father wanted."

Ginny's face darkened at the mention of Lucius, but didn't voice her opinion.

"Harry?" The question startled him. Draco hadn't appeared to take notice to his presence but he apparently knew he'd been there without looking. The question in his voice wasn't directed at his presence but more towards the topic.

"Enough for auror." He answered simply. He didn't really want to clarify any more, it felt awkward sharing results with Draco for some reason. Sensing Draco's unwillingness to continue conversation, Harry backed out of the room silently with a nod from Ginny.

Ginny sat down on the floor across from the seemingly distraught boy. His letter was held loosely in his pale hand as he looked at her. It felt like he'd lost his father all over again, not being able to share his O.W.L.s with him. He pushed his head back against the mattress to look at the ceiling. Ginny seemed to understand he didn't feel like talking, but he was grateful for her just being there. She wasn't bad at all. Weasel on the other hand… _'Stupid Weasley_..._ thought he could talk Harry out of being with me. He's going to have another thing coming to him if he thinks that now. He's mine, mine mine mine.'_ He had a feeling Harry was across the hallway brooding about how his friends reacted, but he didn't want to go over there just yet. So much had happened that day, in Harry's room, then the safe room or whatever it was… then the drawing room. A frown creased his brow as he thought about the family tree he'd seen, with holes blasted into it. Would his name have been blasted off?

Sighing deeply, Draco nodded to Ginny to say he was okay, before enjoying the silence with her.

* * *

**A/N:** Haaaaa.. chapter six! Took bloody forever, I'm sorry! Surprised about the room beyond the door? I don't really like this chapter, so it might be rewritten later. Thank you for the reviews… it's amazing when I ask for just ten, and get around 14 in the first few days it's out. Hurray! Again, not much prewritten (practically nothing really) so.. you know the drill. Reviews brighten my sad days. 


	7. Surprise?

**Recap:** Sighing deeply, Draco nodded to Ginny to say he was okay, before enjoying the silence with her.  
**Posted:** 7-4-2005

* * *

**Mad About You  
****Chapter Seven:** Surprise?  
Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Draco slipped into Harry's room surreptitiously moving to the bed where the brunette lay, moaning in his sleep as he tossed and turned. It was a familiar process now; a week had passed since that first nightmare he had woken Harry up from and the Gryffindor had another every night.

Sitting down next to Harry on the bed, Draco grasped his hot shoulder to hold the thrashing boy still.

"No… I didn't mean to…!" Harry gasped. Tears clung to his lashes and he was once again ghost-white. As if sensing Draco, his free hand that wasn't clamped around his forehead latched onto the blond's forearm. Responding, Draco pushed his hand away from his forehead, replacing it with his own as he'd done every morning that week. Harry's thrashing calmed as the coolness woke him. Green eyes met grey, shining with tears, pain, and gratefulness.

"Harry, everything's okay now." He whispered. Harry's grip did not lessen. He closed his eyes, waiting to calm. Given time, Draco noticed that the blanket was off the side of the bed and the white sheets were tangled between Harry's legs, his torso fully exposed. He looked much better than he did those first few days. Draco made him eat as much as he could, every meal. He still appeared a bit peaky, but Draco still found the sight exhilarating.

Draco swallowed and forced his eyes to Harry's face, only to find his eyes open once again and watching.

"Thanks." He murmured in a low voice that sent a shiver down Draco's spine.

"Think nothing of it." He smirked, brushing at Harry's fringe.

It was strange really, in all ways. They'd been at Grimmauld for little over a week and they'd grown close – closer than Draco could have ever hoped. He suspected it had something to do with Harry pushing away and avoiding Weasel and Granger. According to Harry, the duo had been too involved in each other, and 'he'd also… something.' That was the response from Harry lately – an incomplete 'I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this-now' answer. Figuring he'd eventually tell him, the Slytherin let it be.

"That makes oh, seven mornings I've woken you. Planning on this for the rest of the summer vacation?" he asked. Part of him knew and dreaded the answer, the part that hated seeing Harry in this state. The other wanted it selfishly to happen so he could have the small joy of seeing Harry in bed. _'No, I'm not pathetic at all,'_ Draco thought to himself with a silent snort.

He let go of Harry's forehead as he sat up unconsciously kicking at the sheets to straighten them out. "You should know –"

"You don't plan anything." Draco said in a voice that suggested otherwise, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"But it most likely will happen." Harry scrubbed his face with both hands, sighing resignedly. He reached a shaky hand over to the table for his glasses, slipping them on to bring the blond into focus. Draco, as every morning, just appeared concerned.

"So what's planned then for today?" He asked in place of his curiosity.

"I don't know," Draco answered truthfully. "I woke up and came straight here. Are you up to eating… downstairs?" He asked, the last word said distastefully. They'd only eaten breakfast downstairs a few times since Draco was discovered by Ron, but he'd taken to eating dinner with them since Harry confessed hating evening mealtime the most, with everyone there. _'He's not going to love tonight,'_ he thought. Ginny had told him yesterday what the Mother Weasley was planning for Harry's birthday: a party. His job, she said, was to distract Harry. _'Distracting him would be most enjoyable if it was a whole different type of distraction.'_

"I guess I'm up for that." Harry said. Draco looked at him, afraid he'd said it aloud, before realizing he wanted to eat downstairs. The dark haired boy moved out of the bed, pulling on a random dark shirt from the armoire. His jeans went on slower, giving Draco time to have a good look at Harry's backside again. This time Harry made sure to tuck his wand into his pocket. He hesitated before following Draco out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

The plump redheaded woman standing at the stove turned as they entered. Ron and Hermione were sitting at one end of the table, eating. Draco sat down at the opposite end and smiled at Mrs. Weasley as she handed him a plate with breakfast pancakes. Harry sat next to the blond and received a similar plate.

"Thanks."

They ate in dead silence, avoiding looking at the other group. The tension was thick around Harry. He could feel the questioning eyes of Mrs. Weasley but he didn't dare speak up.

Ron ate slower than usual, glaring off to the side of the table. Harry hadn't spoken to Hermione or him since he blew up at him in the drawing room. While it only fueled his belief that Malfoy was tricking him, feeding him lies, Hermione insisted they didn't confront Harry again rashly, without proof since he'd just get angrier.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley caught his attention. "Albus would like you to sit in on the Order meeting this afternoon." Draco, Ron and Hermione all looked towards the dark haired boy who had paused to look up at the woman.

"Sit in?" Harry asked. Why? Had something horrible happened?

"Yes, sit in. He wants you to be included in the meetings from now on." She answered. So that was it. Dumbledore wanted Harry to be in the meetings so a repeat of the Department of Mysteries accident wouldn't happen again.

Harry paled further at the thought, a flash of Sirius in his mind. It had been his fault. He stared down at his plate, gripping his fork. Mrs. Weasley looked to the blond next to him, who was watching him intently. "Draco, you're also to sit in."

He turned his gaze from Harry to her, opening his mouth to speak. Ron beat him to it, "WHAT!"

Okay so maybe it was exaggerated a bit from what he had been about to say.

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a stern look, "Hush, Ronald."

"Wait, no, _he_ gets to be in Order meetings and we," Ron cried out, motioning to himself and Hermione, "Don't? That is _so_ unfair! His father's a Death Eater!"

"Ron!" Hermione tried hushing him.

"Ron, mind your own business!" Harry stood angrily. "If _Professor Dumbledore_ wants him at the meeting, he'll be there! There's nothing you can say that will change matters anyway."

Ron glared at the two of them, before storming out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley stared after him as Hermione excused herself, got up and followed to do some damage control.

Sighing heavily, she murmured, "He'll calm down in awhile." Looking at the two remaining in the kitchen, she added, "It's none of your fault, boys. Ron's just being hotheaded."

Draco glanced up at the woman. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley." She smiled, swelling with pride at the ever-rare gratitude from a Malfoy.

"Well, you best be off if you're done. They'll all be around for lunch. We're all keeping strange hours these days…" She trailed off, turning back to the stove.

It was then that Harry noticed how tired Mrs. Weasley appeared, and how her usually fiery and boisterous demeanor had changed. She never would have dismissed Ron's behavior as 'hotheadedness.' Her face was permanently creased with worry and her eyes were dulled of the liveliness of the Weasley woman. It saddened Harry, to know that it was because of him the woman he considered close enough to the title mother was worried and fretting over the safety of her family. …Everyone was fretting over the safety of his or her family, because Harry couldn't and hadn't killed Voldemort. Yet. It was all a matter of time, wasn't it? He'd have to kill Voldemort, or die at his hands.

Die, be killed, perish, be destroyed, dee –

Draco shook him out of his stupor, "Come on." He stood with him and they left, Harry still deep in thought.

They did not return to their rooms as they usually did, but instead went out the backdoor to the yard. It was still as dismal as when Draco found Harry out there, yelling his rage. A few days ago, they'd gone out again, if only for a change of scenery. It was then that after a conversation about the state of the garden, Harry told Draco he'd show him later how to garden.

* * *

_Flashback_

"You like this dead place, don't you?" Draco sat on a bench, staring at a nearby pot with browned, crinkly foliage spilling out.

"It's not really dead… just dormant. With a little care, it could be green again." Harry responded, sifting his fingers through a few dead leaves.

"I hardly think so. It's been ruined for years if what you've told me about the place is true. No one's bothered to care for it at all." Draco drawled, watching Harry's face grow determinedly sad as he stared at the gnarled, leafless bush of sticks. "Even if nothing grew back, it'd still take a miracle to plant the whole garden back to what it was, Harry."

The Gryffindor sat next to the Slytherin, looking him in the eyes before around the garden, saying softly, "Maybe I'll teach you, after all of this." He didn't have to elucidate what he was referring to. "I'll show you how to garden, Draco."

Grey eyes watched the boy's face next to him thoughtfully, considering his words. He was saying their truce would last long enough for an 'afterwards', that he'd still want to be around Draco after Lord Voldemort's ordeal was over. Draco would hold him to his word, deep in his heart. He wanted to say something - anything – about how he didn't have to, that it was enough he was just with him right now, but instead he said, "Extra Herbology lessons, Harry? Malfoys don't play in the dirt."

Harry gave him a small smirk that made Draco think he knew what he'd been thinking.

"Then we won't play, we'll be serious in the dirt."

Rolling his eyes, trying to stop his heart from skipping a beat at the smile and joke, Draco replied, "Such a Gryffindork."

_End flashback

* * *

_

Harry sat down on the stone slab, leaning back on his arms. His eyes studied the blue sky as his head fell back. _'So carefree, yet so heavily burdened at the same time,'_ Draco thought. The blond sat next to the dead pot, deftly picking up a twig to twirl in his hand.

They sat in silence for a long while in that same position before either spoke.

"Do you think they've got news on your mother's condition?" Harry asked with his head still back. He slid off the bench onto the ground, leaning his head against the side of the slab.

Draco paused mid-twirl thoughtfully. "They must have, if they want to see me. Unless they're finally going to tell us about the safe room…" He trailed off, before saying in a more morose voice. "Or they may just want to ask me questions."

Tilting his head to the side to look at the boy, Harry frowned. "Dumbledore probably already knows everything. He usually does."

"He didn't know you were being mistreated, Harry." Draco said in a vehement voice, scowling. Harry opened his mouth to add something but came up blank. He hadn't, had he?

Instead, Harry shook his head. "No, but they got me anyway."

"Does he know about your dreams?" The blond stared intently at the brunette, growing angry at the old man Harry looked up to. The old coot was senile just about, and using _his_ Harry for the war. Harry met his stare.

"No he doesn't, not the recent ones." He didn't want to go through Occlumency again, so he didn't want to bring the dreams to the Headmaster's attention.

"Then it's possible he doesn't know everything." Draco said as he held Harry's gaze until the other boy looked away.

"Alright." Harry conceded, staring once again at the sky. "I'll have to tell him about the visions at any rate. Just not now."

The Slytherin nodded in agreement. He didn't have to trust the old professor but Harry's visions were important to their cause. The dreams were more personal.

* * *

Ron stormed up to the drawing room, followed closely by Hermione.

"Why the _hell_ does that ferret get to be in the meeting? Why is Harry hanging out with him! I'M his best friend!" He raged after the door was closed quietly, whirling to face Hermione with an angry, helpless look.

Pacing the room, he glanced at her every-so-often. "I don't like this at all. Malfoy's – MALFOY'S – with Harry right now. And Harry hasn't spoken to us all week since he's been here."

Hermione sat down and said to Ron, "I don't think he liked all of what we said a week ago, Ron. We were accusing Malfoy the second he was in the room."

"We had no reason not to!" Ron said in defense. "Harry would have done the same thing last year!"

She sighed heavily as he sat down with her. "This isn't going anywhere at the rate we're going. He's avoiding us and blowing up at him doesn't help." She looked at him and he flung up his hands in defeat.

* * *

Ginny went down the stairs in a trot, trying to find Harry and Draco for the Order meeting. They weren't in Harry's room but when she'd checked Draco's room, she'd seen them out the window in the backyard.

She jumped the last two steps and walked out the back door. The blond and black-haired boys were sitting on the bench, facing the opposite direction, the blond looking at the other, the other looking up at the clouds in the sky.

"Oi, Harry, Draco," She called. The boys turned around at her voice. "The Order meeting is about to start. You should get inside." She ducked back inside.

Draco stood immediately, holding out a hand for Harry, pulling the Gryffindor up from the ground when he accepted it.

"Come on, can't kept them waiting." The two of them headed inside. Harry looked downright sullen. In the house, Ginny pointed them towards the unused dining room, near the kitchen. The room was filled with select Order members Harry had met or seen, and some others he'd never. The Professors, Aurors, Remus and Mundungus, the Weasleys (minus three) and others were all stuffed into the one room.

The wizard heading the Order of the Phoenix, dressed in purple robes with silver stars, stood at the front of the room. Wizards and witches were sitting in the chairs in front of him, around two enlarged tables, and some stood around the walls of the room. Harry gripped Draco's forearm at the sight of the silver-bearded Headmaster. Neither had seen Professor Dumbledore during their stay, and Harry hadn't been able to apologize, nor get any of the questions burning in his head answered. Until now.

"Hello, hello. Once everything's quieted down, we'll start up the meeting." The elderly wizard called out. Upon spotting Harry and Draco, he said to them. "Ah, gentlemen, if you'd like to take a seat? I'm happy you were informed of the meeting." They stood behind the Weasley clan so as to see everyone in the room. Dumbledore nodded and stood.

"Alright. We're just here for updates today. Kingsley?"

The tall bald Auror inclined his head and began his report. He was one of the head Aurors in Azkaban, in charge of the Death Eater security. Harry was brought back suddenly to his visions. Voldemort was planning the breakout soon, but the exact day hadn't been mentioned. For all Harry knew that could have meant tomorrow, a week, a few months – there was no telling. He did know they were planning a night assault, before a shift change. Draco looked over at him while Kingsley spoke; he knew of Harry's visions content.

Harry sighed heavily to himself as Kingsley ended, speaking up. "Sir?" Professor Dumbledore glanced at the boy. "Yes?"

"I… I have reason to believe there may be an attack on Azkaban, an attempt to release the Death Eaters." He met Dumbledore's eyes, urging him without speaking to know of his visions. The Order members – the Weasleys especially – appeared unsettled by Harry's announcement. They shifted in their seats, quiet. Lupin, who stood next to Harry, placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Why was everyone so quiet?

Dumbledore seemed to come to his conclusion. "We'll strengthen protection and security around the floors and outside of the prison. More Aurors and Elemental Mages." He nodded to Kingsley. "Go back with Nymphadora and Alastor after the meeting and send word to the Mages." Kingsley sat back down as Tonks and Moody nodded their agreement to the order.

"Shall we continue then?"

The meeting continued with reports and Harry listened intently, though Dumbledore's orders whirled in his head. Elemental Mages? He could only guess what they were, but they sounded vaguely familiar. He'd ask after the meeting; he didn't want to bring attention to himself again.

After about half an hour, the meeting adjourned and people began leaving.

"Harry, Mr. Malfoy, if you'll please stay behind." Professor Dumbledore called out over the din. Draco shot Harry an unhappy look as they stayed standing with Lupin.

"Do you know what this is about?" Harry asked him. Watching Dumbledore approach, Lupin murmured, "I have a vague idea."

Dumbledore motioned for the boys to sit down as he addressed Lupin. "Remus, you're sure you're well enough to visit with some of the known werewolves? You can take a day or so to rest." He clasped his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Albus." He answered. As it would turn out, the full moon was just days ago. Remus had returned looking more haggard than ever; another impact of losing Sirius again for the man. It weighed on Harry's mind after seeing him so worn, knowing it was worse because his stupidity took away the one connection Lupin had to his human side during those nights. Sirius…

_Sirius is dead because of you, _the voice intoned in the back of his head.

"Still I should like you to remain here for a day…" _Sirius is dead. Sirius is dead. Sirius is dead…_

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore's voice broke into his thoughts. Harry looked to Professor Dumbledore, now sitting across from them. "I suspect you would like to hear news of your mother?" A small smile appeared on his face.

Draco's face lit up with hope and worry all at the same time. "How is she?" He asked, forgetting anything his father had taught him about pretenses and masking emotions.

"Narcissa is alright. Her condition has not worsened at all, but she's still comatose." Dumbledore answered carefully. "She is stable, though."

Slipping slightly into a frown, Draco tugged at the hem of his shirt as he took that in. "Do they know what curse it was?"

"They've crossed off the worst of them. We still don't know which one though, I'm afraid."

Draco nodded and swallowed. Harry squeezed Draco's forearm encouragingly. He could sense that Dumbledore was trying to be honest and upfront with the two of them, but there still seemed to be something he wasn't saying.

"Will I be able to see her?" The blond finally asked.

"Ah, yes. You may visit her tomorrow if you wish, but I will be giving you a guard." Harry almost dropped his head to the table thinking of Moody making Draco go all over London before St. Mungo's.

Dumbledore smiled, almost sadly. "This leads me to you, Harry. The guard is for both of you tomorrow. Harry," His smile was very sad now. "Harry, before Sirius died, he'd made sure you wouldn't have to worry about anything in such case where he wouldn't be able to take care of you."

Harry's heart froze. _Sirius is dead because of you. 'Before Sirius died… in such a case where he wouldn't be able to…take care of you…'_ Dumbledore's words rang in his ears. He gripped his knees as he listened to Dumbledore numbly. Remus put a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"He wrote a will last year while he stayed here. He'd been updating it for quiet a few years actually." Dumbledore steepled his fingers, leaning his elbows on the table between them. "He left everything to you, Harry: The vault at Gringott's, the house and its titles – everything."

"What?" Harry blurted.

"Sirius left you everything, Harry." Lupin repeated for him, smiling despondently.

"But.. no. He couldn't have. Why would he do such a thing?"

"Harry, do you honestly think he'd leave you nothing? That he wouldn't want to support you in any way he could?" Dumbledore asked. "He loved you."

Harry looked down at his clenched hands, fighting not to cry in front of Dumbledore, Remus, and Draco. He refused to. He was supposed to be strong, wasn't he? He had to face Voldemort, he had to be strong.

Dumbledore continued, "Tomorrow, the guard will escort you to Gringott's to sign everything over. I'm sorry for your loss Harry, truly I am, but these things must be taken care of."

"I know." Harry admitted bitterly. "Do they know he's innocent?"

Lupin shook his head. "Not yet, but we've petitioned for it. They have yet to review. Since he is gone though, the goblins have unfrozen his accounts."

"Okay…" He stood abruptly. "So we're going to Diagon Alley and St. Mungo's tomorrow then."

Lupin touched his arm and tried changing the topic, noticing Harry was close to snapping. "So what did you think of the meeting?" Draco nodded slightly to Lupin, to show his concurrence of the topic change, knowing it would calm him down.

"It-It answered a lot of my questioned about what the Order's doing." Harry's eyes met the Headmaster's. "Thank you."

"You're welcome my dear boy." Dumbledore answered. "How about you, Mr. Malfoy? What did you think?"

The Slytherin leaned back in his chair. "The meeting was just an update, right? It was enlightening." He was back to the Malfoy manners then. He could open up to Harry and even Ginny, but not the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a former professor.

"Well, if that's all then, I must get going." Dumbledore stood along with Lupin, winking at Harry, heading out the door. Remembering what he wanted to do, Harry turned to the old wizard.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" Dumbledore and Lupin stopped and looked to Harry. "I'm sorry, about last year. I never – "

"Harry, what happened was my fault. I should not have kept things from you. You were forgiven the moment it happened." With a smile, he turned and continued out the door, placing his hand on Lupin's shoulder to take him out too. He waved to Harry as the door shut, who slumped down into his seat next to Draco, before noticing the blond held onto his wrist. _'When did he grab my wrist?'_ Harry wondered. He hadn't been paying much attention to the blond as he heard what the Professor had to say.

"Tomorrow's going to be busy, right?" Draco said lightly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. His mind settled with a bit more peace than before, having finally apologized to the Headmaster. "Let's go back outside. I don't want to think about it."

* * *

"He's close to going over the edge, Albus. Any mention of Sirius… you saw him in there." Lupin explained to the other wizard.

"No worse than can be expected. I seem to recall you were also terribly distraught after losing Sirius, Lily, James and Peter so many years ago." Dumbledore watched through the window as the subject of their conversation moved into view with his apparent ex-school rival. "He just needs time, Remus."

"I don't want him to need time, Albus! He shouldn't have to deal with so much death and responsibility, ever! He shouldn't use time to numb out the pain of losing Padfoot – "

"You cannot replace Sirius in his life, Remus, as even Sirius could not replace James." Dumbledore acknowledged, turning back to look at the man sadly.

"I don't want to! I could – I just want to be Remus in his life. He wants that."

"His restlessness and short fuse are rubbing off on you." Dumbledore observed. "It adds into your agitation and incites your irritation quicker."

"Don't be one to state the obvious, Albus." Remus ran a hand through his dark blond hair. It was a bad habit of his, running his hands through his hair. "What am I to do, then?"

"I would like you to go as part of the guard with them tomorrow before continuing on to your task, if that is, you still do not want a break before the task. Harry will need you at Gringott's, and possibly the hospital."

"And as usually, you won't explain any further." Remus dragged his hands back through his hair, completely worn. Dumbledore just smiled and looked back down to the two boys in the yard.

"You're catching on, Remus."

* * *

Ginny flung herself onto her bed, bouncing the quill, parchment and closed ink bottle. She'd intended to write her boyfriend Dean for a few days now, but with Harry and Malfoy arriving, Ron's storming around, and cleaning duties, she'd hadn't the time. Since breakfast, she'd helped clean the kitchen and listened to Ron rave about Malfoy going to the Order meeting. Ginny secretly wished he would shove a sock in it. At any rate, she knew Ron would probably never get over the enmity between him and Malfoy.

Uncapping the ink she dipped the quill tip in and began writing. In about an hour, she'd have to cue Draco so she could help her mum set up for the party. Not only in celebration for Harry's birthday, but it was also a crafty way of releasing some of the tension that had been building up between the older teens.

A sudden knock sounded on her door. "Come on in," She said, not looking up from the letter.

"Ginny?" Hermione opened the door and stuck her head in.

"Yeah, come in Hermione." She capped the ink and set her quill down, watching the brown-haired girl shut the door.

"I thought I'd come up and see what you were up to. Mrs. Weasley snagged Ron to help her for a bit." She said, walking into the room.

"I'm just writing a letter to Dean." Ginny said, pointing to everything spread out before her. "So what's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, nervously tugging at a strand of her hair.

"You and Ron, being attached at the hip. Everyone's noticed and wondering about what happened to 'Harry, Ron and Hermione.'" She answered. Ginny already knew something was going on between the two of them, but she wanted to coax it out of Hermione. She thought Harry also might be a bit suspicious about it and that's partially why he was avoiding them.

"Attached at the hip? We are not – well, not really. We just, Ron and I… If-If Harry would just listen to us, we could try to sort things out." Hermione stammered, flustered by the question. "If anyone's attached at the hips, it's him and Draco!"

"Yes but, while it's nice knowing you want to sort things out, that didn't answer my question, and you're rambling." Ginny smirked. "Harry and Draco are friends now. We're the only people he's been able to talk to besides Professor Lupin, and for some reason, the twins."

"He's been talking to Lupin?" Hermione sat down on the side of the bed. This was the most she'd heard about Harry outside of Ron's rants. At least, Ginny was speaking civilly.

"Yes. He spends some time with Lupin, so Draco and I sit around and talk. When Lupin leaves, he usually joins us. Fred and George have come by every-so-often and cheered him up with some of their new inventions, and they talk about Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Most of the time, he's alone with Draco while I do chores." Ginny filled Hermione in, feeling sorry for her a bit. It wasn't her fault Ron had blown up and messed things up, even if she had said she wouldn't accept Malfoy into their group anytime soon. That, Ginny knew from Draco, seemed to hurt Harry.

"At least he's not been alone." Hermione said wistfully.

"So, answer my question. Has my blockheaded brother finally realized he likes you and asked you out?" Ginny said boldly. She didn't want to say any more about Harry, since it was his business.

Hermione blushed scarlet at her words, tugging harder on her hair. "Maybe. Well… yes. He asked me at the beginning of the summer, when I came to Grimmauld."

Ginny grinned. "Well, finally! When are you going to tell Harry?"

Frowning, Hermione said slowly, "Well, we weren't going to until we found the right time. We didn't want him to feel like we were trying to upset our friendships or push him away – "

"Hermione," Ginny looked over to the window, facing out where the boys were before looking back at the girl. "He already feels left out of something. I think that's part of why he was getting so angry."

"Really?" Hermione blanched. "Oh no, I have to go find Ron so we can tell him."

"You shouldn't just yet. Maybe you could tell him tonight, after his birthday party?" Ginny suggested. "Who knows how he'll react."

"Yes, you're right." Hermione said, thinking about it. "It probably wouldn't be a very nice surprise for him right before his party."

"'Surprise! Your two best friends are dating now and they'll probably need a bit more alone time with each other, and that's why they've been so weird these past few days! But don't worry, you're still all friends and you'll always, mostly, have them to confide in! Oh, and we still can't really accept your choice of other friends! Happy birthday!'" Ginny said with false enthusiasm. Hermione's reply was to smack her forehead and groan.

* * *

**A/N:** Chapter Seven anyone? You've waited long enough for it! (ducks the large books being thrown) Anyway, since it's summer, expect the next chapter faster. It's Harry's party! WEEEE! We finally know that Ron and Hermione are together - but Harry still doesn't! Huzzah! Thank you for all your reviews, they're awesome. As the drill would go, reviews brighten my sad days! 


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